Fighting Shackles
by Hailstorm13
Summary: When Draco Malfoy wished upon enchanted engagement rings to find him the perfect bride, the very last thing he expected was to end up with a certain Harry Potter! There are no breaks in their crazy lives. ( Draco/fem!Harry ) -Post Deathly Hallows: 8th Year -
1. Chapter 1

**IMPORTANT - PLEASE READ! A/N: **This picks up right after the Deathly Hallows, but is not an epilogue. It features a **Harry that was BORN female**, but the storyline from canon history will remain the same EXCEPT a few, small points (like, Harry never dated Cho or Ginny etc.)

The female Harry's name is Harriett, but **Harry will still be referred to as "HARRY" **for the most part. Like a nickname.

**MOST IMPORTANTLY: **The idea for the engagement rings and the basic concept of this fic was borrowed from **"Harry Potter and the Malfoy Ambition"** written by _**Goddess Blue**_. "Malfoy Ambition" is a brilliant fic that, sadly, has been discontinued. Also it has seances from **"Unorthodox Matchmakers"** by _**Phoenix Soar**_.**Thus, certain scenes in the first five or so chapters, _especially this first chapter_, will be inherently similar to "Malfoy Ambition"**. Througout the story there will be scenes from "Unorthodox Matchmakers in it. However, this fic deals only with the idea of the engagement rings, not any of the subplots of "Malfoy Ambition". It is leaving a lot out of "Unorthodox" as well. But anything that sounds similar, probably is their work. After the first few chapters, which lay the foundation of the fic, **I will be writing my own plot** and there won't be anything in common between the plot of this fic and Malfoy Ambition (except the engagement rings). This authors note could not have been made without Phoenix Soar, who I used a lot of phrases from.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN ANYTHING OF GODDESS BLUE'S "MALFOY AMBITION" OR ANYTHING OF PHOENIX SOAR'S "UNORTHODOX MATCHMAKERS". ABOVE ALL, J.K ROWLING HAS ALL RIGHTS, Th****ey belong to HER.  
**

**WARNINGS: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear.**

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******FIGHTING SHACKLES **

******CHAPTER ONE: WISHING UPON A RING** (By: Goddess Blue)

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(PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BEFORE PROCEEDING)

"Vault 709," announced the goblin as the carriage came to an abrupt halt. The little creature gently leaped off and respectfully held the door open for the occupants. Nodding her acknowledgement, Narcissa Malfoy gracefully descended from the little carriage, and was soon followed by her son, who stepped off as elegantly as his mother. The undignified, wild carriage rides that led to the underground vaults in Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank, always made him a tad nauseous, but Draco Malfoy maintained his calm composure and never showed it; he had a reputation to live up to, after all.

The name of Malfoy still commanded some respect within the Wizarding World, even after the events of the 'Great War' as the battle that had led to the ultimate doom of Lord Voldemort, the most feared Dark wizard in many a decade, had come to be baptized. True, the family name had been tarnished somewhat but since the Malfoys had, halfway through the battle, stopped fighting for Voldemort's cause, they had not been thrown in Azkaban prison despite the fact that two of them bore the Dark Mark, the cursed tattoo that marked them as servants of the Dark Lord, or rather Death Eaters as they were commonly known. This had been mostly due to the fact that Harriett 'Harry' Potter – the Girl Who Lived, the Chosen One, She-Who-Had-Saved-Us-All or whatever was the latest cheesy title that the _Daily Prophet_ had dubbed her – had stepped in and vouched for them, to the eternal shock of the Malfoys.

The Wizengamot had been even more shocked and none of them had even bothered to mask it. In fact, Draco would have found their expressions almost comical had he and his parents not been bound by chains to their stone chairs in the sinister courtroom; such circumstances do have a tendency to put a damper on amusements. Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had been made new Minister for Magic after a near unanimous vote, had finally managed to locate his vocal cords and had demanded an explanation from Ms. Potter for her blatant statement that the Malfoys should not be imprisoned, especially as they were proven Death Eaters.

"Because they are the reason that I stand alive in front of you today and, by extension, why Voldemort is dead now. And why the rest of the world can sleep in peace," had been her aloof response which earned her even more incredulous looks, if such a thing were possible. But, Draco had noticed, his mother did not look as taken aback as the rest; if anything, her expression was one of comprehension. This was explained when Harry Potter added, "Or at least, Madam Malfoy is."

She had then gone on to explain how Narcissa Malfoy had saved her life by deceiving the Dark Lord (amazing in itself as it was nearly an impossible feat) and declared that she had clearly witnessed the Malfoys _not_ fighting for Voldemort in the climax of the battle. At the moment, it had seemed to Draco that Harriett Potter was only speaking in their defense because she felt that she was indebted to Narcissa – which she was. But then again, that was not very surprising: Potter was a hard-core Gryffindor; one of those oh-so-courageous lions with a heart too noble for one's own good ... or, so Draco felt in respect to all Gryffindors in any case.

After a long drawn out debate, the Wizengamot had finally decided that though the Malfoys would not be sent to Azkaban, they would be punished for their earlier actions which were, admittedly, not very pleasant. Not even the Chosen One had been able to change that decision. Draco had been let off easier, as he had been underage when he was first initiated into the Death Eaters, and Narcissa had a more tolerable punishment than her husband for she had not been as 'involved' in Voldemort's plans as Lucius had been.

In the present time, Lucius still had a few more months of 'punishment' left, but mother and son were both free. In fact, Draco had even been accepted back into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his seventh and final year, and the ministry had not confiscated the Malfoy fortune (though any object related to the Dark Arts had been removed from their manor house). As soon as the news that the Malfoys had turned to the Light (and halfway through the Great War too!) had begun to circulate, the respect for the family, which had been noticeably diminished, had increased by a fair few notches. There were still some who mistrusted them – and with good reason, considering their shady past – but Narcissa and Draco, though cowards at heart (they were Slytherins, after all!), had stepped into public with their heads held high, if only to remove the rust from the family name. And it was this pride that the young Malfoy heir displayed in the dark underground tunnel even if the only one to witness it was the lone goblin that had accompanied them to the vast and ancient Malfoy vault.

The little goblin, whose name Draco did not care to recall, hurried with lithe strides to the large door in the tunnel wall. For so small a creature (he barely reached Narcissa's slim waist), it really was admirable the proud and important manner in which he held his posture; but then again, goblins were a proud and fierce race. He turned his onyx, pupil-less eyes on the two humans and with courteous, yet haughty, civility requested the key to the vault, which Narcissa handed over delicately. The goblin turned it smoothly in the keyhole and the door swung open soundlessly.

Narcissa nodded her thanks to the goblin that had stepped back respectfully before sweeping into the large vault. Draco hesitated for a moment; the last time he had visited this place, getting into the vault had not been so simple. There had been a dragon, old and partially blinded, but magnificent still, which had guarded these deepest vaults of the bank. There was no sign of the beast now, thanks to – surprise! surprise! – a certain Harriett Potter. She and her faithful sidekicks had broken into a Gringott's vault (his Aunt Madam Lestrange's vault to be precise) to steal what Draco understood to be a Horcrux that had belonged to Voldemort, and had actually evaded capture and escaped. This adventure had already become the stuff of legend, for _no one_ broke into the heavily guarded Wizarding Bank and got away with it, unless you counted Voldemort who had done the same thing through the manipulation of one of his earlier servants...

And what had made this feat of Harry Potter even more impressive was that she and her two friends had actually escaped _on_ the dragon! Draco still had trouble believing it.

_Stupid Potter and her showing off!_

He did accept that he did owe her somewhat for his freedom; had it not been for her words of defence on their behalf (and the words of a heroine that had just saved the entire world from certain doom were extremely powerful as had been proven), the Malfoys would be rotting in Azkaban now. But still, that did not mean that his feelings towards her had changed. After all, a steady – and sometimes, violent – rivalry that had raged for nearly seven years could not be easily overlooked and thrown aside; they had been at each other's throats from Day One at Hogwarts, when she had first spurned his offer of friendship, had chosen a low-down, red-haired and freckle-faced Weasley over him...

A dark scowl marred his pointed, yet strikingly handsome features and his silvery eyes darkened a few shades at the unhappy remembrances before swiftly pushing them aside and stepping over the threshold after his mother, ignoring the goblin that had been staring at him curiously for just standing put. The vault was exactly as he remembered it: nearly overflowing with piles of coins, jewels and other various expensive trinkets and family heirlooms.

He found his mother scooping up one last handful of golden galleons into her exquisite money bag before straightening up and smiling at her son, the action highlighting her beautiful face. Her pale blue eyes were warm and affectionate as she looked at him and it nearly startled the living daylights out of the young wizard – again. At once, Draco scolded himself that he should be used to it by now, but it was still hard; for Draco had only ever seen his mother's eyes as cold, icy pools of sky blue for nearly all his life. However that had been in the past, back when she had been in the service of Voldemort. Now, with her freedom, she had allowed her true nature to come forth and had become the loving mother that Draco had never consciously realized that he had been craving all his life, but the change in Narcissa Malfoy still unnerved him at times.

'Well, I think that's enough galleons to buy all your school things,' Narcissa commented lightly, lowering her eyes to the full money bag. "What do you think, Draco? Do we need more?"

"I think that is enough, Mother," answered Draco, once he had regained his composure. In truth, the school book list had not even arrived yet, but Narcissa, who had had the day free and longed for the outdoors, had insisted that Draco accompany her to Gringotts and then Diagon Alley to buy everything else that he needed for Hogwarts.

"`Very well, then, darling."

"Shall we leave now?" asked an uncomfortable Draco; he was still not used to hearing his mother calling him loving endearments.

Narcissa bestowed another one of her stunning smiles upon her son. "No, Draco; there is one thing left to do here, something of great importance and it should be taken care of soon."

"Oh? What is that?"

"Here, come with me."

She led him to the very back of the large vault where a small, slender, yet elegant pedestal stood that rose to a height of approximately four feet. It had intricate designs carved on its sides and it stood placed well away from the rest of the Malfoy valuables. On its flat, circular surface rested a plush, velvet cushion that was the color of blood and nestled in the very center of it were two rings that lay side by side; the silver of both contrasted starkly with the crimson background. Even for Draco, who had been surrounded by many expensive and rare objects his whole life, was marveled at the beauty these rings possessed.

Draco's breath caught in his chest as he stared at the two rings. He did not need any explanation from his mother to understand what was going on.

"Mother, I . . . " he croaked weakly, not sure how to express the contradicting feelings that had begun to rage a battle as ferocious as that of the Great War within the confinements of his mind. He tried to speak yet again, but his mother held up a delicate hand and he snapped his mouth shut, the turmoil in his mind never lessened.

"Draco," his mother's voice was soft and her tone was soothing. 'Tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday; you know what that means - and you have always known that this day would come."

"I did" nodded Draco, his face troubled and his eyes betraying the conflict within. "But, Mother, I . . . "

"Draco, understand this: this is entirely your own choice. Your father and I have always agreed that we would not choose for you, or force you to decide as we wished. This agreement was strengthened after the fall of the Dark Lord when our lives, once again, belonged to us. You are no one's slave, my dear, your life is yours."

"I understand, Mother," said Draco softly, "but, please try to understand _me_. I am not ready to marry."

For the two rings that lay upon the cushion were the ancient Malfoy engagement rings, the most valuable family heirlooms of the Malfoys. Every Malfoy couple in history had had their own special wedding bands, but the engagement rings had been passed down from generation to generation; from the middle Ages. In fact, they had been worn by every Malfoy ever since they had first been forged especially for them by the master goldsmith of the era. The rings had first been worn by the late Abraxas Malfoy and his wife, the late Genevieve Goldheart. They were the couple that had started the tradition of passing the rings down the Malfoy line.

It was traditional that the Malfoy heir chose his bride by his eighteenth birthday. Draco's parents had worn those very rings during their engagement, as had his paternal grandparents, great grandparents and so on. And now, it was his turn. The only problem was that he was not ready to commit to a marriage yet. There was much that he wanted to accomplish in life before settling down. Couple that with the fact that he had not even met a woman he liked yet!

No, he was not ready for marriage. Not at all.

His mother, on the other hand, did not appear to agree. Surprising her son immensely, she threw back her blonde head and laughed merrily, the sound reverberating through the vault like the sweet tinkle of chimes.

"Oh, Draco," she exclaimed cheerfully once she had calmed down, "an engagement is not the same thing as marriage! You do not have to marry immediately. You can prolong the engagement for as long as you and your bride-to-be see fit. Though, of course, it is preferable that the wedding not be put off for far too long. And you know that it is traditional for the heirs to the family fortune to choose their spouses by their eighteenth. It is a tradition that has been upheld for centuries, love, and it is your father's and my wish that you follow it. Your father would have wanted to be here with you today, but seeing as he is still serving his sentence . . . "

"Mother, I know about the tradition, but- " a hint of desperation had crept into Draco's voice by then, "There isn't a girl I like, much less want to marry! How am I supposed to choose a fiancée by tomorrow?"

Narcissa scrutinized her son carefully, all traces of humor gone and replaced with thoughtful contemplation. After several seconds of this treatment, Draco could not help but squirm slightly, though he did not lower his silvery eyes from his mother's blue ones.

Finally, his mother spoke, "Lucius has not explained this to you, has he? But then again, what with the war and the Dark Lord and his demands, I suppose that it is not surprising. Well, Draco, there are a lot of things you need to know about those rings and the first thing you should understand about them is that they are not the ordinary engagement bands that you are, doubtless, imagining them to be; they are magical, Draco."

Draco looked at his mother with confusion and mild surprise. His father had explained the history of the rings and the tradition to him long years ago, but this was something that he had not been informed of before. _They're magical?_

"You see, Draco," his mother explained gently, "it is not necessary that you meet a girl before being engaged. These rings, at the time they were forged, were enchanted to help find the spouse-to-be of every Malfoy heir or heiress, based on their wishes."

If anything, her simple explanation only served to further confuse her _already_ confused son.

"What do you mean, Mother? I'm afraid I don't understand."

There was a pause as Narcissa, once again, studied her son almost critically, head tilted slightly to one side.

"Do you want to get married, Draco?"

"At some point in my life, yes. But not _now_."

"That is beside the point. Now, tell me, do you have an idea of the kind of wife that you desire?"

Draco flushed slightly, looking a little embarrassed, by still answered. "I suppose so."

Narcissa smiled. "Well, then, all you have to do is tell the rings exactly what kind of a woman you want as your spouse. Make as many wishes as you want, provided that you ask for the kind of girl that you truly desire, and the ring intended for your fiancée will find her for you. After you make your wishes, that ring will disappear from the vault and appear on the ring finger of the girl that matches your description within the next twenty four hours. It is a very simple procedure."

"I see, " murmured Draco thoughtfully, now truly intrigued. It was not a revolting idea; he would not mind marrying a girl he had never met before, provided that she proved to be the wife that he longed for. And if he were to believe his mother's words – which he did, for she was a woman of honor – that the engagement could be prolonged indefinitely, then he would have enough time to get to know the girl before officially committing to the relationship. _Hmm, this could really work._

However, right then, his musings were brought to a rude halt when a sudden thought struck him.

"But, Mother, how on God green's earth am I supposed to _find_ her when I do not even know who it is?"

"Do not worry, darling. You need not seek her out."

"No? But then, how . . . ?" he broke off.

"Well, the girl will have to come forth, darling, and reveal herself to you. The ring cannot be removed by any means whatsoever, unless you, her fiancé, remove it from her finger; thus, she will be forced to come out anyway. And you can spend the rest of your engagement getting to know one another before marrying."

"I see. Well, it doesn't sound too bad when you put it like that. But, wait!" he exclaimed, another question popping into his already information-overloaded mind. "What if the ring makes a mistake? What if it chooses a girl that I despise?"

His mother smiled at him again. "The ring cannot make a mistake, Draco. It never has. The engagement rings have found perfect brides for all the Malfoy heirs, ever since the time of Abraxas Malfoy and Genevieve Goldheart-Malfoy, as I'm sure your father has already told you. It will find you a girl that matches your heart's true desires; one who will be an immaculate wife; one who will bear your children; one who will fulfil you in every way. The ring is never wrong, my dear, rest assured."

There was a silence as Draco pondered his mother's words. He was still unconvinced about how foolproof the rings were. His skepticism must have shown on his face for his mother suddenly said, her voice as soft and comforting as the sound of waves lapping against a smooth shoreline, "Are your father and I not proof enough?"

Draco raised his eyes to meet those of his mother's and his lips curved up slightly. It was true; Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black-Malfoy truly were a couple that left nothing to be desired. This had been apparent even when they had been slaves of Voldemort; especially during the dark and dangerous period when their thoughts had begun to oppose the opinions of him and they had almost lost all hope of freedom and survival. They had comforted each other, with and without words, drawing strength from their love and sticking together to the end.

His smile broadened. His mother was right: the rings were absolute. That they had brought Narcissa Black to Lucius Malfoy was the living proof.

"Very well, then, Mother; I shall do it."

Narcissa nodded at him, her happiness evident in her smile and glowing eyes. She pulled out her wand and waved it gracefully at the stone pedestal, murmuring a few indistinct words under her breath and Draco understood that she had probably removed the powerful protection charms and wards cast over the rings. Narcissa put her wand away and delicately picked up the two rings which she handed to her son.

Draco accepted them and held them up to his eyes for inspection. They were not made from silver as he had initially believed, but from pure white gold that gleamed brilliantly in the dim light that shone in the vault from an unseen source. One was slightly larger than the other and was obviously meant for masculine fingers, and while the other was slimmer, the design was identical. The white gold bands were inlaid with the tiniest of sparkling diamonds that flowed along the entire outer surfaces in similar elegant patterns. The outer edges were plated with light gold and set into the center of each ring was a beautiful diamond gem, cut with precision into a regular hexagonal shape. The gems seemed transparent and white simultaneously and their dazzling sparkles seemed to hold seductive allures.

The design of the engagement rings was hardly extravagant, yet it was their simplicity that made them all the more beautiful. They were truly breathtaking.

"Draco," His mother's voice jolted him back to reality. "Are you ready, my love?"

Draco gazed at the rings for a few more seconds before nodding, his jaw set in mute determination.

"Good. Now, put on your ring."

Without question, Draco slipped on the larger ring onto the ring finger of his left hand. It magically shrank in size to fit the slender digit. He had to admit to himself, it looked quite good on him.

"Now," Narcissa said seriously, "describe the girl of your choice to the other ring. Keep your wishes to the point and precise, and make sure that they are extremely clear. Most importantly, speak from your heart, not your mind. Wish for a girl that would truly make you happy, my dear, not for one that would only be beneficial for a material purpose. You know what kind of woman you want to spend the rest of your life with. Wish for her, Draco, for yourself as well as for her"

"When you are finished, the ring will disappear, and you cannot remove your own ring until you have met your fiancée. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother."

She nodded once and began to walk away. Draco stared at her, a little confused. She caught his gaze and explained, "I shall wait by the vault doors, Draco. This is a personal matter and I would not want to intrude on your privacy."

"No, stay," Draco said quickly. Narcissa raised her eyebrows at him. "I mean, I do not mind you hearing my wishes. Really," he added when she looked unconvinced. "After all, I'd want your blessing and approval for my choice in a bride."

"Oh, darling," she smiled affectionately at her son, "You know that your father and I would approve, no matter who it is! We trust your judgment." She looked at him sincerely.

"But, all the same, I'd rather you stayed, Mother."

After a moment of consideration, Narcissa nodded and stepped back up to the pedestal. Draco heaved an inward sigh of relief; he would never admit it, but he was rather apprehensive about asking a ring to find him his bride-to-be. He had never done such a thing before and his mother's presence was a comfort; she gave him confidence.

Narcissa nodded at him encouragingly and Draco, closing his fingers over the 'feminine' ring, began to speak albeit a little awkwardly for he felt rather foolish talking to a ring of all things.

"I wish . . . " he trailed off, a little embarrassed at expressing his desires, – desires which he would have regarded as weaknesses only a year or so ago – but gathering his courage, he ploughed on, "I wish for a girl who'd understand me and vice versa, one who would love me for myself and not for my wealth or status. I want a girl who has not forgotten her morals; one with whom I can talk to about nothing and everything; one who will never bore me; a girl who would always be there for me as I would be there for her. I want a wife with whom I can spend all my days in bliss, with whom I can have a family; with whom I can grow old – " He paused slightly, recalling his mother's earlier words and proceeded to repeat them, "I want a girl who fulfils me, completes me; a girl I know, preferably and, well, I just want a wife that will make me the happiest man alive. Please find such a one for me."

When he finished, he opened his fingers and looked down at the ring that was nestled in his palm. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but then, slowly, the Malfoy engagement ring began to fade. The solid white gold became transparent, and before he knew it, there was nothing in his hand at all. The ring had disappeared, just as his mother had said; gone to find him his perfect wife.

As for Narcissa, her eyes were fixed not on his empty palm, but on his face. The expression on her face was a mixture of disbelief, amazement and pride. Her son had truly grown up, she could see that now. A couple of years ago, he would not have uttered such words. His wish would have been to have a wife that was beautiful, socially powerful, and wealthy and from an upper class background; the list would have also included 'pure-blooded'. In fact, she had been half afraid that he would truly ask for such a woman even now. But no, he had changed. He had matured and grown wise. He no longer had a mania for pure-bloods and money. No, instead, he had, perhaps for the first time in his life, truly allowed his heart to speak for him.

Draco averted his eyes from his mother for as long as he could. He was embarrassed that he had spoken such private yearnings out loud; he had not meant to sound so romantic, like a love struck schoolgirl. But once started, it had been difficult to stop. Nonetheless, he realized that he did not regret it. For once, he had done the right thing.

"Draco . . . "

With the utmost reluctance, Draco turned to face his mother, not knowing how she would react to the sappy speech he had just made. To his surprise, he found Narcissa positively beaming at him with unshed tears glittering in her blue eyes.

"Oh, Dragon, I'm proud of you; you will have a fine wife, one worthy of your love."

Surprised, but happy at her positive reaction, Draco smiled at his mother, silvery eyes bright. She returned the gesture before turning to leave, beckoning him to follow her.

They were in the carriage, hurtling back up towards the surface, when Draco, who had been examining his engagement ring – he had given it a few experimental tugs and, just as Narcissa had told him, had been unable to pull it off –, realized something and voiced it.

"Mother, it just occurred to me – the girl, what if she does not know that it is the Malfoy engagement ring? How would she know how to find us? In fact, how would she even know what is going on and why there is an engagement ring on her finger that had appeared out of nowhere?"

"Easy, love, easy; do not fret. We just simply have to advertise it."

"What? What does that mean?"

"You see, Dragon, our engagement rings are not the only ones that are enchanted. Other old wizarding families have similar rings. It is rare, but not unheard of. A lot of wizards in our society are aware of how such rings work. So, what we need to do is let the news spread that you have wished upon the rings for a wife and are awaiting your new fiancée to make herself known to you. That way, your future bride will know what the ring on her finger is and what action to take."

"Spread the news!?" repeated Draco in a heighted voice. Horror was beginning to register on his face. "You mean, through media? Through the _Daily Prophet_?"

"Yes, love, and we need to send in a picture of the ring, too, so that your fiancée will recognize it for what it is. Whatever is the matter, Draco?" she added concernedly as her son dropped his head into his hands and groaned in a very un-Malfoy-like manner.

"Mother, I could do perfectly well without any more publicity."

"I understand, Draco," Narcissa responded, sympathy reflected in her voice. The Malfoys had had more than their fair share of media and publicity during the first few months right after the Great War; their trials, their conversion to the Light, their sentences, everything had been media-covered and much gossiped about amongst the British wizarding society. She could wholly comprehend why her son did not want any more news of himself printed in the _Prophet_, especially when related to such a personal matter. The gossip that would spread like wildfire about the rings and his engagement to an unknown girl would make anyone's worst nightmares appear tame.

"Do not worry, love, everything will be alright. The media phase will be extremely tiresome, yes, but it will be short-lived and when you find your bride-to-be, you will realize that all that pain and trouble was worth it in the end. Everything will be alright, Dragon, everything will be alright."

Draco merely nodded, glancing out of the carriage windows at the blur of the underground tunnels. _Yes, everything will be alright_. When he finally found his mystery bride who would be everything that he had ever wanted – or, rather had been wanting very recently after his change of heart and mind – everything would be alright.

The thought brought just a hint of a smile to his face which did not leave even when they finally left the snowy white building of Gringotts and entered Diagon Alley to buy his school robes and other knick knacks.

_Yes, all will turn out fine soon._

Pity that young Draco Malfoy did not know that there was a long way to go before he got his happy-ever-after

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**Almost everything in that chapter is work of the brilliant author, _Goddess Blue._ **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N****: Thank you _so much_ to the people who liked/followed/read this first chapter! Thank you for putting my fic on your favs and/or alerts. (: Fem!Harry is not very popular, so; you've given me so much inspiration and I love you all so much! You have really exceeded my expectations! *virtual hugs* **

**Special shout outs to my first three likes/follows of this story: Sakura Lisel, RDFitzy, and Live Long and Love Books! Also thanks so much to my first reviewer: Outofthisworldgal! You truly made my day!**

**Also to a rude _Guest _review who said "**_. . . I see no hope of this getting finished. . ."_ **I truly hope you stick around, and maybe comment under your actual username. I would love a great critic. This fic will be complete. I will not abanon it, I really hope you stick around because I'm not going anywhere. (:**

**By the way, I am very aware that the first chapter was very alike to that of "Ambition", but from this chapter onwards, things will be different! Or start to be. It might take a few more chapters before the fic entirely deviates away from the plot line of "Malfoy Ambition" (except the bit about the rings), but ****I'm not trying to steal anything from Goddess Blue or Phoenix Soar.**** I gave them full credit. So, I'm saying it again though I won't repeat it in future chapters: Absolutely ANYTHING that looks similar to "Malfoy Ambition" belongs to Goddess Blue and is NOT MINE. ANYTHING that looks similar to "Unorthodox Matchmakers" belongs to Phoenix Soar and is NOT MINE.**

**DISCLAIMER****: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belong to J K Rowling, and all "Malfoy Ambition" related things belong to Goddess Blue, as well as all "Unorthodox Matchmakers" related things belong to Phoenix Soar. Everything else belongs to me; it's really a very simple concept to grasp. (;**

**WARNINGS****: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight ****OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear here and there.**

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**FIGHTING SHACKLES **

**CHAPTER TWO: LIFE IS BACK TO NORMAL . . . OR NOT**

* * *

Sometimes, Harriett Potter still expected to wake up to the shrill sound of Petunia Dursley's voice in her small bedroom at No. 4 Privet Drive, Surrey. For the first few weeks, it had come as a shock to wake up in a strange bedroom which she would eventually recognize as the one that had once belonged to her godfather, Sirius Black, and realize that she was at No. 12 Grimmauld Place; that she was _home_; that she was _free._

This realization came as a great relief to her this morning for she was, once again, awakened by a vivid nightmare, the likes of which that had haunted her in her sleep ever since the Great War. Trying to calm her erratic breathing, Harry slowly sat up in bed, a hand unconsciously coming up to rub the lightning bolt scar on her forehead. The little souvenir of the night when Lord Voldemort had made a failed attempt on her life did not hurt as it was wont to do after nightmares that involved or was connected to the Dark Lord; it had not hurt ever since that fateful day in the Great Hall at Hogwarts when Voldemort had met his downfall. But the nightmares – always filled with the faces of all the innocent people that had died fighting the Dark for her, beside her and with her – always brought out the apprehensive feelings that Voldemort had evoked in her heart; and many a time, she imagined that she could feel her scar tingling.

Blinking back the involuntary tears that were prickling at the corners of her eyes, Harry forced down the guilt that threatened to choke her. _They did not die in vain_, she told herself firmly for the umpteenth time. _I killed Voldemort. I brought peace back to the wizarding world . . . they did not die for nothing._ They were words that she had uttered to herself in the darkness for many nights. Harry knew that she was not responsible for the lives that Voldemort had taken. Time, mistakes and the war had taught her wisdom; her thinking had matured. She knew she was not to blame, but acceptance of that fact she still had not grasped; for the recollections of her parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Cedric and countless others, and why and how they had died always brought out the guilt that she fruitlessly struggled to repress.

'Survivor's guilt' her late headmaster would have called it.

Blocking out the haunting images from her mind, Harry got out of bed and prepared to greet the day. After a quick shower, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, pulling on her clothes and truly examining her mirror-image for the first time in many weeks.

She had grown, Harry realized, over the past few months; she now stood at a height that was to be considered five foot five. She had been stuck as a five footer for most of her years at Hogwarts. Her skinny form had filled out and her jet-black hair, though still not well-behaved, was noticeably tamer as she had allowed it to grow over the years, and now fell around her shoulders, weighed down by its long length. The never changing feature was her eyes. Never hidden behind her glasses, they remained as piercingly green as they had ever been.

After combing the knots out of her hair, she left Sirius' old bedroom and headed to the kitchen from where the delightful smell of breakfast was wafting out. As she wandered the corridors, she found herself admiring her handiwork.

No. 12 Grimmauld Place looked like nothing to what it used to be. In spite of what she had said to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, she had found a fair few ways in which she could put the Elder Wand to good use before she returned it to Dumbledore's tomb. The corridors and the rooms of the house were no longer dark and gloomy, but were bright and airy, thanks to a complete paint job on Harry's part. The light yellow walls, and serene blues made the house fell open and even inviting.

With the help of the Wand of Destiny, she had removed all signs of Slytherin-worship from the house. From the snake-headed doorknobs, to the serpentine chandeliers, she transfigured them to look as normal and neutral as possible. Furthermore, she had managed to take down all the portraits of the Blacks, including that of Sirius' mother (a Permanent Sticking Charm was no match for the lethal Deathstick) and the Black Family Tapestry. These, however, she had not discarded because she knew that Kreacher, the house elf that she had inherited from her godfather, would be heartbroken to put it as mildly as possible. Instead, she had given the elf a room of his own – at which he had thrown himself at her feet and sobbed his gratitude for well over an hour – and given him permission to hang the portraits and tapestry inside if he wished. She did not need a second guess to know if the deed was done.

All in all, the interior decor of the large house was definitely a lot easier on the eyes, and certainly more comforting. She now actually felt at home here, almost as much as she had at Hogwarts. _Almost_.

Kreacher was busy frying sausages when she entered the kitchen. He greeted her cheerfully and assured her that breakfast would be ready in ten minutes. Smiling, Harry sat down at the table, regarding her house-elf with bright eyes. Their attitudes to each other had made a complete 180 degree turn. Whereas they had first loathed each other with a passion, their sentiments were the opposite at present. And she was glad; because as Kreacher had finally warmed up to her and vice versa, he had become a fine companion to have.

"Will you be coming back for lunch, Mistress Harriett?" asked Kreacher in his bull frog voice as he placed a glass of juice in front of her. "Mistress mentioned yesterday that she is going out today."

"So, I did," Harry murmured.

"I want to visit Mrs Tonks. There is a lot we have to talk about and I want to see Teddy - so I don't think I can make it to lunch, Kreacher. Sorry."

"Will you be returning for dinner, Mistress?"

"I think so, yes."

"Then Kreacher will prepare stew and the treacle tart to which Mistress is so partial."

Harry grinned at him. "Thanks, Kreacher, I appreciate it."

"And, Mistress ...?"

"Yeah?"

"If – if Mistress does not mind, will Mistress please pass Kreacher's regards to Miss Dromeda? Miss Dromeda was always very kind to Kreacher."

Harry surveyed him carefully through her round glasses, recalling that Andromeda Tonks was Sirius' cousin and must have once been a mistress of Kreacher. She smiled at the house-elf gently.

"Course I will."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Harry stood in front of the door of Andromeda Tonk's house, ringing the doorbell. The last time she had seen her was at the multi funeral of Andromeda's husband, Ted, her daughter, Nymphadora and her son-in-law, Remus Lupin. All of them had been killed by Voldemort's infamous Death Eaters.

Overcome with guilt, Harry had apologized to Andromeda that day after the burial, though she had felt that her words sounded hollow and meaningless. But, unknown to her, her eyes had shown her sincerity and her guilt and Andromeda had seen it. She had pulled Harry into an embrace and the two of them had remained that way for a long time, neither exchanging a word, letting their tears speak for them. A bond had been formed through their silence, a connection that had no name, and they had both sensed it. But the only acknowledgement given to it was Andromeda's invitation for Harry to visit her house at any time and Harry's grateful acceptance of it.

However, what with the aftermath of the Great War and the many funerals and whatnot, Harry had had no chance of doing so until today. Though she knew that Andromeda did not blame her, she could not help but feel slightly nervous at the prospect of facing the older woman; and somewhere in the back of her mind, there was also the excitement of seeing her godson for the first time.

The door opened and Harry and Andromeda faced each other, both of them smiling rather awkwardly at the other. Appearance-wise, Andromeda was almost an exact replica of Bellatrix Lestrange, her sister and murderer of Sirius, but her eyes were kind and her smile friendly, unlike her now deceased sibling. And though Harry had not known the older woman for long, she found that she had taken a liking to Andromeda; perhaps that was because she was the closest link Harry had to Sirius.

"Harriett, please come in." Andromeda held the door wide open in invitation.

Smiling shyly, Harry stepped inside. "Thank you, Mrs. Tonks."

Andromeda chuckled as she shut the door and gestured for Harry to follow her down the hallway into the sitting room.

"There's no call to be so formal, Harriett. Just call me Andromeda."

When she entered the cozy room, Harry caught her first sight of her godson. Teddy Remus Lupin, son of Remus and Nymphadora, was a metamorphous just like his mother; his hair was currently the color of a light blue summer sky, and his eyes were a disarming violet. Nevertheless, the young infant was adorable and cooed at her from his place on the floor where he had been playing with some stuffed toys. With a genuine smile of happiness Harry scooped up the boy into her arms, after glancing at Andromeda for permission who nodded at her.

Teddy seemed to take an immediate liking to Harry much to her pleasure, and she spent the entire morning simultaneously playing with her godson and talking to Andromeda. The topics varied from the somber death of all the innocents, including Andromeda's entire nuclear family, and the more bittersweet celebrations that were still in full swing throughout the wizarding society, mourning the loss of loved ones and celebrating the end of an era filled with terror and the new beginning that had followed. The more they talked, the more Harry found herself liking Andromeda and she could tell that the other woman was feeling the same.

Harry stayed for lunch on Andromeda's insistence; afterwards, when little Teddy had been put to sleep, the two women retired to the sitting room again. Accepting a cup of coffee from Mrs. Tonks, Harriett decided to address one of the major reasons for her visit to the Tonks' household. She had noticed that though Andromeda had seemed glad that Teddy was getting along with her godmother so well, there had been wariness apparent in her eyes and Harry thought she knew why that was.

"Andromeda"' she said softly.

"Hmm?"

"Did – did Remus and Tonks tell you that . . . that they made me godmother to Teddy?"

Andromeda tensed slightly.

"Yes, they did," she answered, with a slight edge to her voice.

Harry looked at her silently for a few minutes, wondering how she could verbally phrase what she wanted to say. The widow met her gaze squarely, and though there was no hostility in her stare, Harry could detect a slight aloofness in her.

"Well . . . I- I don't want to take him," Harry said abruptly.

Andromeda blinked; that was clearly not what she had been anticipating to hear.

"I don't want to take Teddy away from you," Harry continued in a gentler tone. "I may be his godmother, but you, as his grandmother, have more right to him than I could ever hope to have. Also, you have lost your entire family because of me –"

"Harriett, you know perfectly well that I don't blame you –"

"Please, let me finish. You have lost your husband, your daughter and even your son-in-law because of me. I know that you don't blame me," she added when Andromeda opened her mouth to interrupt again, "but I feel guilty all the same; they died fighting Voldemort's supporters and they did it for me, to give me time to destroy him once and for all, but that is beside the point. The point is that, I will not have you lose another family member because of me again. I will not take your grandson from you, Andromeda, and I know that you will take better care of him than I can."

There was a long silence during which Andromeda contemplated her deceased cousin's goddaughter with tear-filled eyes; all the wariness, tension and coolness melted from her. With a barely repressed sob, she leaned forward on the sofa and hugged Harry briefly.

"Harriett Potter, you have been gifted with a heart of pure gold," she whispered into her ear before pulling away.

"I must admit that I was afraid that you would ask me to hand Teddy over to your care. Not that I do not have faith in you, my dear, but I was so afraid that I would be alone again. My grandson is all I have left. Thank you, Harriett, thank you so much for understanding!"

Harry merely smiled sincerely in reply.

"But I will not be here forever; when I am gone, you will watch over him, won't you?"

"Of course; you should not even have to ask me that!"

They both smiled at each other.

"So," said Andromeda, settling back into the sofa comfortably, "What is next for you?"

"Hogwarts," answered Harry simply. "I still have my final year to complete since dropped out of school last year to . . . well. . . "

The widow nodded to show that she understood.

"And have you been accepted?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yes; I spoke with Headmistress McGonagall recently and she has accepted me and a couple of my other friends who also dropped out last year."

"And what field are you planning to pursue after graduation?"

The conversation extended until late afternoon when Harry finally decided that it was high time she left for home. Andromeda accompanied her to the door where she invited Harry to spend the Christmas holidays with her and Teddy.

"I'd love to! Oh, and by the way, Kreacher sends you his regards."

"Kreacher?" Andromeda looked slightly confused before comprehension dawned on her face and she threw back her head and laughed.

"Of course, our old house-elf! Well, that was sweet of him. Please give him my regards as well."

"Alright. Good bye, Andromeda."

"Until we meet again, Harriett."

With a nod, Harry disapparated.

* * *

Truly, one had to admire Harry Potter's self-control; it had been fifteen long minutes of utter _mortification_ and she still had not run to the wall to bang her head repeatedly against it. Sometimes she felt her life was so unfair.

She was, however, not sure how long she had before she finally snapped.

Currently, she was standing on a low stool in _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ while Madam Malkin herself measured her up for her new school robes. Harry dearly wished that she had not entered the shop because from the moment she had stepped foot inside, Madam Malkin had begun a never-ending speech of praises and a heroine-worshipping speech that had brought a blush the color of the Weasley family's trademark hair to her cheeks. The blush still had yet to fade.

Wincing, Harry tried to tune out the voice of the older witch as her words of approval and compliments about Harry's victory over Voldemort became more exaggerated while she continued to pin up Harry's new robes, but it was near impossible; she had an irritatingly shrill voice that seemed to drill right through Harry's ears.

_Maybe I shouldn't have come shopping today_, thought Harry glumly; she was deeply regretting her decision to make a visit to Diagon Alley before heading to Grimmauld Place. But really, could you blame her? It was such a beautiful day with the warm sun that blazed cheerfully in the late afternoon sky that was as deeply blue as a sapphire. Going shopping had been merely an excuse to stay outside just a little while longer after her visit to Andromeda.

In any case, it was probably a good thing that she had come a few weeks earlier than she normally would have. As the booklists had not arrived from Hogwarts yet (she had decided to take full advantage of Flourish and Blott's new and improved owl-order service when the list finally did arrive), the Alley was less crowded and Harry could buy all the other materials she needed for school with blissful peace. Not to mention the fact that the only other person present in the robes shop was an assistant, who stared at Harry with worshipful adoration (and had asked for her autograph), as opposed to an entire mob to hear and witness her humiliation. Yes, this was infinitely better.

Or so she thought until the little bell that hung over the door rang, announcing the arrival of another customer, and her emerald green eyes were met with gleaming grey ones.

_Oh hell, no._

Madam Malkin did a double take upon seeing the young Malfoy heir as did her assistant, whose mouth actually dropped open a little before she regained her senses and hurried forward to take care of the new customer. Obviously, the both of them had been keeping up with all the juicy news about the ex-Death Eater family in the _Daily Prophet_ and could not believe that one of the objects of their avid interest was actually in their little shop. This behavior reminded Harry very strongly of her nosy Aunt Petunia.

'Welcome back to my shop, Master Malfoy,' Madam Malkin gushed in a rather girlish voice at which Harry rolled her eyes. 'Here for your new Hogwarts robes, I presume?'

"Yes," Malfoy answered in a voice that was almost -civil?

Harry stared at him, a little surprised. She had been expecting his usual lazy drawl at the very least, or a sneer. But his face was completely neutral and his eyes, while aloof, held no contempt as the petite assistant had him stand on a stool a few feet away from Harry. _Maybe war has changed him for the better, _she mused.

She remembered the time when she, Ron and Hermione, along with a couple other friends had been captured and hauled off to Malfoy Manor. A stinging hex had disguised Harry but she was certain that Draco had known that it was her; yet, he had not directly replied in the affirmative when the other Death Eaters had ordered him to confirm whether it was really the Chosen One – almost as if he had had no desire to partake in anything that was related to Voldemort. In some small way, he had spared her life when he could have handed her to Voldemort on a golden platter and received handsome rewards for it in return.

_Maybe he really isn't the sadistic fool he used to be before._

Harry was shaken out of her musings when Madam Malkin turned back to her and began pinning up her robes again, the praise-loaded speech once more falling effortlessly from her lips. The blush, that had subsided somewhat, returned in full force to Harry's face and she ground her teeth. A changed man or not, she would rather that Malfoy not bear witness to her abashment.

Her face grew hotter when Madam Malkin's words began to go along the lines of

"Oh, Ms. Potter, I swear that your powers were and still are enough to rival that of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Grindelwald combined!"

Harry ground her teeth again; surely they must be half grinded by now! She chanced a glance at Malfoy, wondering how he was taking this entertaining spectacle and whether his new maturity meant that he did not give a damn about the scene unfolding in front of his eyes; she was infuriated to see him staring right at her, an amused sparkle dancing in his eyes and an ever-so-indistinct hint of the patented Malfoy smirk curling his lips.

So, he had not changed when it came to his sardonic attitude towards her! He still _gloried_ in her humiliation.

_That two-faced son of a deformed Blast-Ended Screwt crossbreed!_ (Obviously, Ron's knack for coming out with unexpectedly creative curses had rubbed off on her too much.)

What Harry failed to realize was that her own maturity level had not increased by much when it came to being taunted by Draco Malfoy, no matter how indirectly it was done.

_Conversion to the Light or not, he's still a conceited, sadistic twit full of decaying dragon dung!_

She glared at him witheringly, which did not have the desired effect on that accursed smirk of his, and turned away fuming. Honestly, the only reason he was walking free even now was because she had vouched for his family! Alright, so maybe she had done it mostly for his mother to whom she owed a life debt, but still! _He could show some gratitude instead of mocking me. _But, no, he was Draco 'holier-than-thou' Malfoy after all. Gratitude was beneath him.

_Good-for-nothing, arrogant, uncaring, 'I'm-oh-so-Slytherin' aristocrat!_

Madam Malkin, Harry realized once she had tuned in the older witch again, was still not finished with her sucking up. _Does she ever shut up? She certainly didn't act like this when I came here seven years ago._ But that, of course, might have had something to do with the fact that Madam Malkin had not recognized the famous Harriett Potter back then. She glared down at Madam Malkin who did not notice the hostility that was being aimed at her as she continued to yak away cheerfully. All the while Harry could feel Malfoy's mocking gaze upon her and her fury, as well as her embarrassment, continued to rise. She could not decide which one she hated more at that moment: Madam Malkin or Draco Malfoy.

The older witch finally finished pinning Harry's robes into place and glanced up, her words coming to a halt in mid-sentence when she, at last, noticed the high color in her prize customer's cheeks and the glint of anger in jade green eyes.

"Oh, my dear girl!" she laughed merrily. "Please forgive me. I'm embarrassing you, aren't I?"

_No, you think?_

The soft timbre of a chuckle sounded from within the shop; Harry did not need to look around to know who was responsible. Keeping her uncharacteristically icy eyes fixed on Malkin's face, Harry dragged on a painful smile that was nothing short of insincere and made no verbal reply.

"You must excuse me, Ms. Potter; my tongue has been known to run away with me on many an occasion."

_You don't say._

"Especially when I get started on delicious topics, and no one can deny that that of you and You-Know-Who is nothing short of mouth-watering –"

_Oh, boy._

At long last, Harry's school robes were ready and wrapped in brown paper and she was free to leave the cozy little shop that had begun to feel suffocative. As she hurried to the door, her robes tucked under her arm and Madam Malkin happily calling-

"Come back again soon, Ms. Potter!"

She glanced one last time at Draco Malfoy; she expected him to make a taunting comment or at least sneer at her as she walked past him, but he did nothing of the sort. On the contrary, his face was expressionless again.

However, she caught the sparkle of amusement that continued to dance in his silvery eyes and had to fight a scowl off of her face, knowing all too well that his hilarity was at her expense.

_Git._

* * *

"Would Mistress care for second helpings of treacle tart?"

"Merlin, no, Kreacher; I can't take another bite," Harry laughed, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms over her head. Even after so many years of neglect, Kreacher still proved to be an excellent cook and Harry, ravenous after her long day out, had eaten more than usual and was close to bursting now. With a contented sigh, she stood up, intending to go to bed early.

"Dinner was great, Kreacher, thanks. I'm going to turn in now."

"Mistress, wait; Kreacher forgot to tell . . ."

Harry, already halfway to the door, turned back. "What is it?"

"Forgive Kreacher, but a letter came for Mistress this afternoon."

"Oh, that's alright, Kreacher. Where is it?"

"Kreacher put it in Mistress' room."

"Right; thanks."

Wishing him a good night, Harry ran upstairs to Sirius' old room (she still had not come to term it as her own bedroom yet) and immediately spotted the letter; Kreacher had placed it in full view on her pillow. Plopping down on the handsome bed, she ripped it open and immediately recognized the careless scrawl of her best friend, Ron Weasley.

**_Harry_**

_How are you keeping up, mate? I've been wanting to drop by sometime (I'm dying to see the makeover you gave that creepy old dump the Blacks called home!) but something or the other always keeps turning up. Sorry about that, mate. Maybe I'll visit you some other time when things aren't so hectic._

_I know that you said that you'd rather spend the remainder of the summer alone at Grimmauld Place, but just so you know, you can always crash over here if you want some company. Mum says that you're welcome to stay until the 1st of September if you like. We'd all like to see you._

_Have ya heard from Hermione yet? She wrote me a couple of days ago and sends her regards and love; she's gone to Australia to collect her parents and said that she's returning around the end of the month. Anyway, we're planning to go to Diagon Alley as soon as the booklists arrive. Is there any chance of meeting you there? If not, we'll see you on the Hogwarts Express. Can't wait._

_Hang in there, mate! We'll see you soon._

**_Ron_**

**_P.S._**_ Have you seen the _Daily Prophet_? They can't seem to get enough of you! You've been on the front page Merlin knows how many times AND they have started calling you more names! The latest one was "She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Forgotten" or something like that. Had me in stitches, that one! Must be annoying, eh?_

Harry smiled.

Same old Ron; it made her feel secure that some things had not changed, like her closest male friend. Sure, the war had had its effect on him, too, but Ron Weasley had managed to stay himself, at least on the outside. Furthermore, he had somehow developed a way of communicating topics with Harry, which the girl was not particularly enthusiastic about, in a subtle and indirect manner that did not result in her withdrawing into herself or offing her good mood. And sure enough, rereading the message proved this point; the letter, despite its easygoing cheerfulness, conveyed Ron's worry over her well being after the war, his family's genuine concern about her being all alone in Grimmauld Place, and his and Hermione Granger's eagerness to see her again to make sure that she was taking good care of herself. It was all there, squeezed in between the lines.

Good old Ron.

He always knew when not to pry and how to address sensitive subjects, unlike Hermione, who had all the subtlety of a rampaging Hippogriff in that area despite her above-average intelligence and tact (how many times Ron had recognized Harry's withdrawals and put a stop to Hermione's inevitable mollycoddling!). This was mainly due to the mother-hen attitude she had towards Harry; her anxiety and worry over Harry's well being and state of mind overshadowed her recognition of Harry's need for privacy. Ron, on the other hand, always knew when to shut up and leave the Girl-Who-Lived alone.

She read the letter again, her heart giving a slight twinge as she realized that she was missing her faithful best friends like hell. She duly wrote a reply, giving a brief description of the new look of her house, her latest doings, reassuring him that she was absolutely fine and apologizing because it was highly unlikely that they would meet at Diagon Alley like he had proposed. Harry sent her new owl, Aquila (which was also snowy white, just like her old owl, Hedwig), with her reply tied to the bird's leg, before changing and collapsing on the bed. It had been a long day and she drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

* * *

_The night sky above her, which was navy, hinted with bits of cream, was dotted with millions of stars that twinkled magically at her like diamonds in sunlight. A crescent moon hung high in the bejeweled sky, giving off its weak silver light, and the Milky Way was distinctly prominent in the surrounding darkness._

_Harry was in the air. With no broom, it was as if she was peacefully floating down a stream. She was soaring high above the vibrant green, grassy fields below her. Her eyes slid shut as she allowed the magic of the beautiful scene to enfold her._

_The silence was interrupted by a buzz that sounded from nearby. Eyes shooting open, she turned her head and saw a snitch zooming around her head. It was incredibly quick and silvery. As the snitched zoomed about her head, it glittered in the moonlight like a freshly cleaned diamond. _

_The snitched zipped right up to her again and this time, she could make out that something was inside the mysterious snitch. Much like how the resurrection stone had been. _

_Harry reached out to grab it, and once she wrapped it in her hand, words appeared on the flying object. _

_You are the one._

"_What?" She asked, still gazing down at the snitch. Harriett read it again._

_You are the one._

_ She stared down at the snitch again. It gave off an aura of beauty, dignity and power despite it being an inanimate object. _

"_What do you mean?" she breathed._

_The snitch suddenly flew towards her started to spin in circles around her ring finger. It was producing and illuminating glow. The glow intensified until it became almost blinding and she had to shield her eyes._

_When the white light faded, she saw to her immense surprise that the snitch was gone and in place had been set a . . . ring? It was a beautiful band that seemed to glitter in the moonlight and in the middle was a beautiful white gem. As she stared at it, somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice that was strangely familiar sounded:_

"_You belong to me, my beauty . . . you are mine."_

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open and her breathing was irregular. She stared up at the ceiling and was surprised to see the golden sun beams, which had managed to squeeze through the curtains, caressing its creamy surface. It was morning already? Strange; she felt as if she had barely slept, though her mind appeared to be sufficiently rested.

She sat up in bed, yawning and thinking about the latest dream she had had: something about a silver snitch that had thrust a ring upon her finger.

_Well, that was certainly a new one_.

The dream made quite a contrast to the death-filled nightmares that had become her nightly companions.

Shrugging off the dream, Harry raised a hand to rub the sleepiness from her weary eyes only to feel something hard, cool and metallic graze her face. Taking her hand away from her face, she glanced down at her fingers and did an award-worthy imitation of a beached salmon when she saw the beautiful white gold ring that rested on her ring finger.

_What – what ... how – w-why ... wha-! Where the _hell_ did _that_ come from?!_

* * *

**A/N: Like we didn't know _that_ would happen! lol. Anyways, so that was my version of a female Harry; I don't know if her character is good or not, but I hope to improve her in the coming chapters! I also know that there wasn't too much happening in this chapter (which is more of an after-the-war explanatory kind of chapter) what with Andromeda and all- but it will pick up!**

**_So, please leave a review?_ xD Your opinions really count in writing a fic and improving my writing, so I'll really appreciate it! (I really am influenced by your suggestions, if you want to see something happen. . .LET ME KNOW! ) :D**

**P.S- Harry's new owl's name is ****Aquila because ****it is a constellation in the northern sky. Its name is Latin for 'eagle' and it represents the bird who carried Zeus/Jupiter's thunderbolts in Greco-Roman mythology.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: SO this chapter is more like a filler, not to exiting but the next ones will get good (:**

**DISCLAIMER****: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belong to J K Rowling, and all "Malfoy Ambition" related things belong to Goddess Blue, as well as all "Unorthodox Matchmakers" related things belong to Phoenix Soar. Everything else belongs to me; it's really a very simple concept to grasp. (;**

**WARNINGS****: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight ****OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear here and there.**

**ALSO . . . Shoutout to my awesome 35 story followers, and my awesome 19 favoriteders! *TAKE THESE VIRTUAL COOKIES FULL OF LOVE***

**. . . and a huge shout out to Outofthisworldgal who is keeping me sane and is a great help in this story! **

***********ALSO I HAVE A POLL UP ON MY PROFILE! VOTE PLEASE? (: ****************************

* * *

**FIGHTING SHACKLES**

**CHAPTER THREE: I REALLY NEED BETTER CHAPTER TITLES**

* * *

Draco was most rudely awakened from a wonderful dream. It had involved a pair of beautiful eyes that had reminded him of a lush, vibrant, rainforest and filled him with a feeling of possessive protectiveness and overwhelming warmth – by a simultaneous burning and freezing sensation in his finger. He shot up in his king-sized bed with a rather out of character yelp, clutching the fingers of his left hand with his right.

As the painful sensation eventually subsided from his ring finger, he realized that the agony had been caused by his engagement ring. He stared at it but it looked innocently normal as if it had not nearly burnt/frozen his finger off not ten seconds ago.

_Something's happened!_

_Duh_, added the untamed part of his brain that dared to use such ineloquent terms.

In one swift motion, he had pushed the soft covers off his body and swung his long legs off his bed. Two minutes later, he stood in front of the large doors of his mother's suite, still dressed in black satin pajamas. He knocked urgently on the mahogany doors, resisting the powerful urge to just knock the obstacle down with a blast of magic and barge into the room uninvited; he was _that_ anxious. For reasons that remained inexplicable, Draco had become rather fond of the idea of having a mysterious fiancée that was perfect for him in every way imaginable, as if made just for him; and the thought of something bad happening to the unknown girl or the rings or anything that that could bode ill for the engagement made him feel worried and upset.

And he had only been wearing the ring for less than twenty four hours before which he had been positively repulsed by the idea of marriage at such a young age! Go figure.

"Come in!"

His mother's musical voice came floating through the polished wood. Draco did not waste a moment. He threw open the doors and hurried inside.

His mother gave him a shrewd look from across the room where she had been gazing out through the large windows at the sun-bathed gardens of their manor. Draco had to admire her great gift of perception when she remarked in a concerned tone before he could even open his mouth,

"You're up early, my dear, and your forehead is creased; what is troubling you?"

Pushing aside his admiration for his mother's sensibility, Draco quickly explained what had happened earlier, trying as hard as he could to appear calm and collected as opposed to nervous and worried. Narcissa listened with a completely neutral expression on her face before her face broke into a sudden smile at the end of his narration.

"Oh my dear Draco, you have nothing to worry about! That pain has happened once and there will not be a repetition of such an episode. Do not fret."

"But, Mother, why did my ring hurt my finger like that just now?"

Narcissa chuckled. "Oh, come now, love, you are an intelligent young man. You do not need any explanations from me. Surely you can guess what has happened?"

Draco gazed at his mother. Now that she had said so, he did think that he knew the answer. Perhaps he had known even back in his bedroom but had been too anxious to acknowledge it.

_Great, denial. _

"The other ring has located my fiancée." It was a statement, not a question.

"That is exactly right," Narcissa beamed at him. "The feeling of being burnt and frozen is an effect the ring evokes in you to inform you that your bride-to-be has been successfully found."

"So there really is such a girl out there?" blurted Draco before he could stop himself. He flushed slightly when his mother chuckled with amusement at his startled outburst.

"Of course, darling; whatever made you feel otherwise?"

He colored again. _Because I did not think that there would be such a woman out there who could be happy with me and vice versa?_

Before he could come up with a reasonable reply, his mother smiled at him and said, "I think I understand, Draco. But you need not worry so. The deed has been done; the ring has accomplished its quest. Now, all that is left is for the girl to reveal herself."

Draco began to return her smile when the implications of her last sentence made themselves horribly clear to him and his face promptly resembled a black thundercloud. 'The _Daily Prophet_?' he asked tonelessly.

"Yes, Draco," his mother answered sympathetically. "I know it is frustrating, but it must be done. Otherwise, the girl might never know what the ring that had suddenly appeared on her finger is or what to do about it. But, it will be over and done with soon," she added comfortingly when Draco's mood did not appear to improve.

He sighed. "I know, Mother. So, when shall we inform them?"

Narcissa made a small face that might have possibly been a grimace as she straightened her silk night robe. "We might as well do it sooner rather than later. I shall inform them today itself."

Draco's heart sank. He did not want to contemplate the reaction he would receive when he arrived at Hogwarts on the first of September, especially from the female population of the school. But, it was just like his mother had said; it could not be helped. He would just have to endure the field day they would be having at the _Daily Prophet_ and all the gossip about him that would travel faster than the speed of light.

"Very well then, Mother."

Narcissa smiled gently at him and gave him a small nod in dismissal. Draco made to leave but his mother called him back again. He faced her curiously.

She gracefully made her way across the spacious suite and embraced him fondly. "Happy eighteenth, darling," she whispered with a brilliant smile.

Draco grinned down at her. "Thank you."

"Now, why don't you go and get dressed so I can give you your birthday gift?" There was a hint of playfulness in her voice as she spoke.

"Yes, Mother."

As Draco left the room, he forced himself to push away the thoughts of all the juicy news that would soon be printed in the _Prophet_ about him and instead concentrate on the girl to whom he might soon be married.

_I wonder who she is. Maybe someone I know from Hogwarts?_

* * *

Harry raised her hand higher to examine the ring more closely. It was extremely beautiful, she had to admit. The white gold was stunning as were the tiny gems embedded in the band, and the single hexagonal diamond in the center that sparkled brightly in the light just took her breath away. Looking even closer, she concluded that the edges of the ring were coated in a light gold. It was gorgeous and obviously very valuable and expensive; and, in Harry's eyes, it looked to be an engagement ring.

_But what the _hell_ is it doing on _my_ hand?_

She stroked it warily with a finger. The ring was quite smooth except for the places where the minuscule diamond gems were set in the white gold. She held her hand out in front of her and angled it in this way and that, admiring the smooth gleam of the band and the additional sparkles that came to the hexagonal diamond. It did not look bad on her, Harry decided, but at the same time it looked just so expensive and foreign that it did not feel like it belonged there. She had never owned anything expensive in her life before Hogwarts (whatever she had owned that had truly belonged to her, the most expensive would probably have not cost more than ten pounds tops) and even after her introduction to the magical world and her inheritance, she had not bought anything too costly for herself; thus having the ring on her finger was an alien sensation.

_How did it get here?_

Harry thought of that pleasant dream she had been having before sleep had abandoned her. It was the same ring, she was sure of that. But how did a ring that she had only seen in a dream suddenly appear on her finger?

As far as she knew, such a thing was impossible. She had experienced her fair share of magic-induced visions in sleep, but mere _dreams_ involving magic was something she had not heard of before; and the dream she had seen of the snake-turned-diamond-ring certainly had had no feel of a vision. What was going on?

Her mind still mulling over the mystery, Harry closed the fingers of her right hand over the ring, preparing to pull it off. No matter how pretty it was or how snugly it fit her, she could not just leave a ring of which she knew nothing about on her finger, period. And with that thought, Harry gave the ring one firm tug.

It did not budge a millimeter.

_What the –?_

She pulled harder this time, but it still did not come off.

Harry stared at it with wide eyes, alarm bells of _ring-stuck-on-finger-very-bad _beginning to go off in her head. _What the hell is going on?!_ She yanked at it again and again but her efforts were fruitless. The ring remained obstinately on her finger.

Great. She had a beautiful ring that had appeared from God knows where and the thing would not even come off!

_This is not good._

* * *

Harry looked down queasily at the plate of fried eggs, sausages and toasts that her house elf had placed in front of her. She had no appetite and frankly, the thought of stomaching anything food related made her want to hurl.

Her attention was caught by Kreacher who had observed the less-than-enthusiastic expression on her face.

"Mistress Harriett has not touched her breakfast. Does Mistress want something else to consume?"

"No, no, it's fine, Kreacher," said Harry quickly, shaking her head slightly. "I'm just not very hungry."

How could she be? Right after she had "fulfilled her destiny" (leave it to the dramatists at the _Daily Prophet_ to come out with such sappy phrases!), she was now faced with another complication. And as small a problem that the ring-that-just-bloody-refused-to-come-off seemed to present her, compared with all the others she had faced, it was still a _problem_! Had she not had enough of that to last her three entire lifetimes?

Even though she knew that it would not work, she half-heartedly tried to pull the ring off of her finger yet again. It clung as tightly to the digit as before. Harry had done everything that she could think of to remove it. She had twisted it this way and that, washed her hand with soap, poured some oil onto her fingers and when none of the ideas mention had worked, she had even licked her finger all over in the hopes that saliva would be a sufficient lubricant.

It was all in vain.

Heck, she had even screamed at the accursed ring! The only thing she had not attempted was magic because the only spells that came to mind were _Reducto_ and _Diffindo_, both of which presented the risk of losing her finger (or hand!), which was not a thought that appealed much to her.

_Damned ring!_

Though the suspicion had arisen more than once, Harry did not think that the ring was a Dark artefact. It did not give off the aura of sinister magic that most objects associated with the Dark Arts did; nor had it really threatened her life in any way. But she could not readily accept that it was one hundred percent friendly either. It was stuck on her finger, for the sake of Merlin, and it did not even feel too tight! She should have been able to pull it off easily; but against all logic, she had failed. Obviously, something was wrong.

Harry was pulled out of her troubled thoughts when Kreacher began to insist that she should take in some nutrition. Smiling comfortingly, she assured him that she was just fine; she neglected to mention that she had a diamond ring – which looked suspiciously like an engagement band – that had appeared in the night. Harry had decided not to tell the house elf about it, considering that she did not want to make such a fuss about the situation and also that she felt rather embarrassed about the whole thing. Seriously, who ever heard of a diamond ring from a weird dream suddenly appearing on one's finger and stubbornly staying there? And was it truly an engagement ring as it seemed to be? Was she engaged to some unknown stranger right now?

The whole situation was bloody ridiculous!

No, she would not tell Kreacher about it, though she could see the honest concern in his eyes. Just as she was about to finish this off as her final decision, another thought interrupted her. _What if Kreacher knew about magic that might involve dreams? _After all, house elves had powerful magic of their own that varied greatly from that of wizards. Kreacher might know the what-why-how of her situation and, most importantly, how to get rid of it. He would know about magical arts unknown to her and others of her own race.

Harry contemplated the house elf that was clearing the table with a displeased frown on his face. Now that the possibility had occurred to her, she did want to question him. But she still did not want him to know the facts. So, how to go about it without him suspecting anything?

"Kreacher," Harry began nonchalantly, "what do you know about magic and dreams?"

"Magic and dreams, Miss?" The elf looked up at her in unmistakable surprise. "Kreacher begs your forgiveness, Mistress Harriett, but Kreacher does not understand."

"I meant do you know if there can be a connection between dreams and magic? Is it possible for something one sees in a dream to be there in reality the next morning or something like that, through magic perhaps?" Harry looked at Kreacher earnestly, desperate for an answer to her inquiries.

Kreacher looked bemused by her strange question but he answered nevertheless.

"Kreacher has not heard of such cases before, Miss Harriett. Kreacher knows that magic can show visions to wizards and magical beings through sleep, but Kreacher has never heard of magical dreams."

Harry's heart sank but she pressed on, "What about what I said just now? Be it a dream or a vision, but is it possible for objects that a person sees while they're asleep to appear in real life later on?"

The house elf looked utterly bewildered. "Kreacher knows not, Mistress. Kreacher has not heard of it."

"Oh. Right, well that's fine, thanks anyway."

She buried her face in her hands to hide her disappointment. She was aware of the house elf watching her, but she ignored him. A few seconds later, she heard him returning to his chores, respecting her space. Harry sighed into her palm. She was no closer to getting rid of the stupid ring than she had been before.

_There must be some way to get this thing off, there has to be!_

"Mistress."

"Hmmm, yeah?" Harry glanced up at Kreacher.

"An owl for you, Mistress Harriett."

She looked at the window and, sure enough, there was a handsome tawny sitting on the sill, peering through the glass at her, waiting to be let in. Harry hurried to the window to grant it entrance. The owl flew to the table in what appeared to be a very tired manner. He held out his leg to which a letter was tied with string. As Harry removed it, she scrutinized the owl and realized that it looked utterly exhausted. It had obviously come a long way to find her. Who would send her a letter from so far away?

She swiftly unsealed the roll of parchment and unfolded her letter. A smile grazed her face when she saw who it was from.

**_Dear Harry,_**

_How are you, Harry? I do hope everything is alright. I am in Canberra at the moment, here to recover my parents. I managed to lift their memory charms and they are perfectly alright, thank Merlin! We're planning to return to Britain soon, possibly by the end of the month. How about all three of us meet up at Diagon Alley then? Ron seems quite up for the idea!_

_Which reminds me, have you talked to Ron yet? I heard from him that you're spending the remainder of the summer alone at No. 12 Grimmauld Place! It's not true, is it? Oh, Harry, you shouldn't stay alone! I'm sure the Weasley's will be all too happy to have you over. Please consider it._

_I do not have much time, else I'd write longer, but I must leave now. I can't wait to see you and Ron again. I miss you two very much! Spending every second together in a small tent for a year really does something to a friendship! Please take care, Harry and stay out of trouble. If you feel too lonely, __please__ go over to Ron's. Being cooped up alone for too long can be extremely unhealthy!_

_Hopefully we will meet soon._

**_Love,_**

**_Hermione_**

Harry had to smile. Typical Hermione Granger; she was in complete mother hen mode! Unlike Ron, she expressed her worry over Harry much more frankly. Harry was used to her insensitive bluntness when it came to Hermione's anxiety over her, but it still annoyed her ever so slightly. Really, her friend should know by now that Harry no longer tended to fall into depression or anger issues like after Sirius had died. But, in any case, that her friends cared for her so much was heartening to know.

Her smile faltered when her eyes landed on the tawny owl again. No wonder the poor thing looked so wasted! It had come all the way from Down Under to London! Gently picking up the owl, Harry left for Sirius' room, guiltily apologizing to an enraged Kreacher for letting such a good breakfast go to waste. In the bedroom, Harry put the tawny in Aquila's empty cage. With a hoot of gratitude, the owl began to thirstily drink from the little water bowl while Harry proceeded to write an answer to Hermione.

Her reply was, more or less, the same as the one she had written to Ron. After greatly reassuring Hermione that she was fine and not feeling lonely in the slightest, Harry once again politely turned down the invitation to meet up at Diagon Alley. It was not because she did not want to see her two closest friends, but because she wanted some solitude. Harry could not explain it; what she knew was that she really needed some me-time before re-entering the hectic Wizarding World again. For so long she had to follow the choices of others and not of her own; she was beginning to enjoy the freedom of doing what she pleased.

This was also the reason why she was refusing to go to The Burrow and spend the remainder of the holiday with Ron's family. Apart from that, she did not want to intrude; she knew that they were still mourning the loss of Fred Weasley. Harry herself had still not come to terms with his death, especially after having known him for nearly seven years. Maybe later in the summer.

The guilt began to arise again and she immediately pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. Swallowing the forming lump in her throat, Harry went to seal the letter when her eye caught the sight of the diamond ring on her finger. For a moment, she deeply considered telling Hermione about it. As the smartest witch of her age with a brain that was brimming with the knowledge she had gained from countless books, Hermione was bound to know how the ring came to her and how to remove it. But Harry changed her mind at the last second. The last thing she wanted was to worry her female best friend by telling her about that dream she had had. If there was one thing that could push Hermione's anxiety into overdrive, it was Harry having strange dreams.

However, it was with regret that Harry sealed the letter and put it aside for the owl to deliver it once it had recovered; she really wanted answers about the ring, but it would have to wait until she finally met her friends again. After all she had dealt with worse.

Suddenly, September the first seemed too far away.

* * *

"Ginny, _calm down!_ I'm sure she's alright."

"But we haven't seen a hair of Harry ever since the funeral, Ron! How do we know for sure that she's alright? . . . I'll answer that- We. Don't."

"Gin, I showed you the letter she sent the other day, didn't I? Harry says she's doing fine."

"Damn it, Ronald, this is Harriett Potter we're talking about! Of course she'd say that even if she were an inch from death! You know how she's like."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin!"

Ron Weasley buried his face in his hands, grinding his teeth in frustration. Did his little sister think that he did not care for Harry as much as she did, if not more? Ginny's ranting was not helping his nerves in the least. He was as worried about his best friend as Ginny and Hermione were combined, but if Harry wanted to be alone, who were they to intrude? He had seen enough of Harry Potter's need for privacy to know when to stay well away from her. But his little sister was obviously not going to follow his example.

"I'm going to visit her," Ginny declared abruptly, standing up from the kitchen table on which she had been perched.

"Ginny, I'm telling you, leave her alone," Ron growled through his teeth, looking around when he heard the annoying tap against the window which indicated the arrival of an owl. Getting up, he quickly made his way to the window. It was the owl that delivered the daily newspaper.

"But Harry's all alone in London! We have to check up on her!"

"Gin-ny,"Ron fought down the urge to rip out his hair as he unfolded the _Daily Prophet_ with forced calm, "I know Harry, OK? She just needs to be alone. She is very capable of taking care of herself. I can tell she's fine."

"But –"

"Look, I'm worried about her, too, OK! I've been her best friend for over _six years_! But she wants to be on her own. Think what she's been through in this war, Ginny! After all that, don't you think Harry would need some space to get her head back together? She's OK, Gin, really!

Besides, she's with Kreacher. He'll make sure she eats; you know what house elves are like when it comes to their owners. And we'll see her on the Hogwarts Express soon, too. Please listen to me, Gin, just leave her alone. She wants to be alone. So let her be."

Ginny stared at her older brother for a few moments with a surprised expression before remarking wryly, "Never took _you_ to be one to use tact, Ron."

Her brother merely scowled at the implied insult before turning his attention to the front page. His mouth fell open.

"What?" asked his sister curiously, noticing his expression.

"What the . . . um, er . . . damn, Ginny, you gotta see this."

"Well, what is it?" She peered over his shoulder and stared at the page for a moment before her own jaw hit the floor as well.

The headline screamed:

**MALFOY HEIR ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED!** **WHO COULD BE THE MYSTERY GIRL?**

'_Bloody hell_!' murmured Ron and Ginny in unison.

* * *

**A/N: This was a short, transition chapter that needed to happen to make things more realistic before the next could be written - and thus, not really worth a long wait at all. The next chapta' is where things begin to kick in! These first five chapters are going to be very similar to the others stories, but just wait! Changes will happen! Let me know . . .what do YOU want to see happen? (: **

**To keep confusions to a minimum: These first three chapters take place around Draco's birthday (5th of June), but there will be a time-skip of around ****_three months_**** in the next chapter which takes place on the 1st of September. As the fic progresses, I'll add these little time reminders so that things won't get too muddled for readers to keep up with. (:**

**Anyway, despite the shortness and all, I hope this chappy was not all that boring. **

**Reviews and Favorites are very much appreciated! x *High-fives full of love* **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Poll voting makes me happy! . . . . *_cou__gh cough*_**

**DISCLAIMER****: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belong to J K Rowling, and all "Malfoy Ambition" related things belong to Goddess Blue, as well as all "Unorthodox Matchmakers" related things belong to Phoenix Soar. Everything else belongs to me; it's really a very simple concept to grasp. (;**

**WARNINGS****: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight ****OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear here and there.**

**SHOUT OUT! To _Outofthisworldgal _who is kinda like my unofficial beta. xD **

* * *

**FIGHTING SHACKLES **

**CHAPTER FOUR: _"ONE TRUE LOVE"_**

* * *

It was Hermione Granger who noticed her first.

Before Harry knew what had happened, her blurred with curly brown hair and her female best friend's voice in her right ear.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so happy to see you! I missed you so much! What are you doing here!"

"Me too, Hermione," Harry gasped, extracting herself from Hermione's embrace so that she could breathe. Her eyes turned to the red haired family and she smiled genuinely at Ron, Ginny, George and Mrs. Weasley, all of whom surged forward to greet her, though not as exuberantly as Hermione.

"All right, Harry?" Ron and George said at the same time while Mrs. Weasley and Ginny hugged Harry briefly.

"How have you been, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, holding Harry at arm's length and examining her critically.

"Have you been taking good care of yourself, sleeping and eating?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I eat _every day_," Harry teased and gave her a reassuring grin which was returned.

"Hmm . . . well, you seem fine, I suppose," Mrs. Weasley said as she let go of the girl that she considered to be her surrogate daughter.

"I am." Harry smiled again and opened her mouth to inquire how they had been, but shut her mouth at once; it was a stupid question. The Weasley's had just lost a son, after all. Harry glanced at George. It was so strange to see him there alone. He had always been accompanied by his twin brother, Fred. Seeing George alone, the usual happy-go-lucky humor replaced with a strained smile – it just was not right . . . and once more Harry got that feeling that it was all because of her.

She still tried not to think about Fred too much, despite her best efforts. He was like an older brother to Harry. Practically all the Weasleys were that way to Harry. She was fond of each and every one of them . . . even Percy. After the initial shock from the battle Harry was worried how she would be treated by them. It was all for nothing though because as soon as she walked over they embraced her in a smothering hug. George and Harry had grown very close, and had even cried together; something she rarely did even in the presence of Ron and Hermione.

"I'm really sorry for arriving without telling you," Harry started. "I just suppose I changed my mind."

"Oh dear, don't be silly, you will always be welcomed here, you're part of the family" said Mrs. Weasley smiling at her Harry.

Harry felt a blush dust her cheeks and smiled back. Quickly after she waved her wand and her belongings flew up to the guest room she always shared with Hermione. Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Harry all ventured up the steps into the room Hermione and Harry were staying in.

Ron sat on the floor propped up against the bed while Hermione hopped up onto the bed and sat cross-legged. Ginny and Harry sat on top of her bed as Ginny turned to Harry who was now seated next to her and asked, "So, how was your summer, Harry? Got enough rest to face your last year at Hogwarts?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess; so far the summer has been pretty quiet. I went to see Andromeda, by the way . . ."

She told them about her visit to the Tonks household and her decision about her godson. When she finished, Hermione looked at her with a pleased and impressed look on her face.

"That's great, Harry. I really do think that you made the right decision in leaving Teddy with his grandmother."

Harry nodded, the corners of her lips curling upwards.

"Yeah, it wasn't even up for question. And I can visit Andromeda and Teddy when I want to. She said I should stop by sometime during Christmas break. It will be nice to spend time with Teddy on a holiday."

"That's great, I'm proud of you, all mature know," Hermione said lightly teasing. Harry gave a small laugh brushed her unruly hair back out of her eyes.

"So, anything else happen other than you living it up with Kreacher?" Ron asked lazily, leaning back into the bed. Hermione slapped him atop the head with a "_Ron_!"

"Ouch! What? What'd I say?"

Harry laughed. "What is it, Ron? You're jealous that you can't 'live it up' with a house-elf yourself?"

"When did I say that?" he exclaimed looking very confused at the nonsensical direction their conversation had turned to.

She shook her head amusedly. "Ah, forget it, Ron. As for your question, the answer is no; not much happened really, and I'm glad about that. I could do with some normal in my life." Harry reached up a hand to brush back a wayward strand of hair and her eyes were automatically drawn to the diamond ring that rested innocently on her finger. _Ah heck!_ She had almost forgotten about the thing, having become so used to its weight in the past three months. Harry glanced up at her three friends who were chatting among themselves; now was a good time to tell them about her little . . . ring problem. She would have preferred to tell Ron and Hermione about it in private, but as it did not really seem to concern anything related to the Dark Arts, Harry figured that she could let Ginny in on the secret as well.

"Guys," Harry said quietly. Their chatter died away and the two Weasleys and Hermione faced her with curiosity in their eyes. "Now that Ron has brought up the subject . . . well, er, something did happen."

_So much for a normal life._

Unsurprisingly, both of her friends' eyes turned dark with owrry.

"It's not something bad, is it, Harry?" There was a note of panic in Hermione's voice.

"No, or . . .er, well I mean I don't think it is . . ." started Harry uncertainly.

All three of them gave their undivided attention to Harry.

"I was having a dream – WAIT, don't interrupt Hermione! It _wasn't_ a nightmare – and I saw this really, ummm," she paused to search for the right word. ", _elegant_ silver snitch that zoomed around me while I was flying. And for some reason when I caught it-"

"You grabbed the potentially dangerous snitch from your dream!" interrupted Hermione.

"A message appeared on it that said '_You Are the One_'," Harry continued on as if Hermione hadn't spoken. "Whatever _that's_ supposed to mean. And then–"

"Harry, it _is_ common knowledge that you should _never_ grab anything in a dream! You should know that!"

"Thank you, Ron and Hermione. Now as I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted –"

"Sorry 'bout that, Harry."

"Ronald, stop interrupting her!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

Silence.

"Er, Harry, I'm sure they're both finished. Go on."

"Alright. Anyway, like I said, I just leaned in to see if I had read the message wrong and it – I dunno, just flew in circles around my finger and started to glow weirdly and next thing I know it had turned into a diamond ring!"

Silence met her last words. Ron looked as if he still had not completely managed to digest what he had heard, Ginny looked slightly confused and Hermione was gazing at Harry with a thoughtful frown on her face. Finally, she spoke.

"Well, I honestly don't know what to make of that, Harry, only that it doesn't seem like a bad thing or something evil. Maybe it was just a dream."

"That makes sense," murmured Ginny while her brother nodded in agreement, finally having had caught up with the rest of them.

Harry frowned. "I thought so, too," she muttered, "Until I woke up the next day."

Three pairs of puzzled eyes turned to her. With a sigh, she finally held out her left hand and allowed her friends to see the beautiful ring that rested on her finger. Her eyes were fixed on the little piece of jewelry and she did not see the look of shock, disbelief and – in Ron's case – utter horror that crossed their features.

"This is the exact same ring I saw in the dream and it was on my finger when I woke up. And to top it all off, the bloody thing won't even come off! I tried everything, but it just wouldn't budge! I don't know what to make of it. Any ideas?'

Harry finally looked up and saw their expressions. She looked bemusedly from Hermione and Ginny's open mouths and wide eyes to the look on Ron's face that suggested that the end of the world had come ahead of schedule; Harry had to bite back a laugh. However, when no one seemed to be able to regain their senses, she could not help but feel a little worried.

"It's really that bad, huh?" she asked in a low voice, watching her friends with apprehension.

Not shockingly, Hermione was the one who shook herself from her stupor first.

"Harry," she began uncertainly, glancing at the two Weasleys who were still in shock, "have . . . have you been . . . um, keeping up with the _Daily Prophet_ lately?"

"Pshhh, no," Harry answered truthfully, wondering how the newspaper had anything to do with her predicament, "I cancelled my subscription ages ago, you know that. Ever since they started advertising that biography of Dumbledore that Skeeter wrote. And after the whole Horcrux dilemma, I didn't bother to renew my subscription."

"Oh bloody hell! No wonder she doesn't know anything about that thing!" exclaimed Ron hoarsely who was still gaping at the ring with an expression akin to the one he used to wear whenever he saw Crookshanks, Hermione's kneazle-cat.

Hermione ignored him. "Harry that is very irresponsible," she scolded her female best friend. "You must keep up with the news, you know that!"

Harry snorted rather contemptuously. "Like I can depend on the _Prophet_ for _news_! Half the stories in that thing aren't true and lately, all it has ever done is just print story upon story about me. I should think that I don't need it much."

"Well, if you had read the latest editions of the _Daily Prophet_, maybe you might have known what that ring on your finger is . . . it's all that they have been talking about."

Harry sat up straighter. "What'd you mean?" she demanded breathlessly. "What does the _Prophet _know about this ring? What do _you _know about it?"

Hermione looked nervously at the other two occupants in the compartment before turning to Harry with a huge grin on her face that was rather disconcerting. "Harry," she spoke through her great big smile, "we're your friends and we'll love you no matter what."

Harry's face drained of color. She felt herself become stiff and didn't even bother trying to relax herself, knowing it was futile.

_Oh no._

"No matter what you choose, we'll always support you. Isn't that right?" she shot at the two Weasleys. Ginny nodded rather mechanically but Ron needed a pinch from Hermione before he replied in the affirmative.

Harry paled even further. There were defiantly creases of worry etched into her face.

_Oh shit! Oh shit! _

"Everything will turn out absolutely fine."

"_Damn it, Hermione, just give me the bad news already_!"

Her friend winced, but she managed to keep up her smile nevertheless. "That ring . . . well, it's an, um, an engagement ring."

"Yeah, I figured that much! What else about it?"

"Well . . . I mean, You're . . . uh . . . thatringmeansyourengangedtoMalfoy," Hermione said in a rush.

"What? I didn't quite get that."

Hermione bit her lip nervously and shot Ginny and Ron a nervous look before repeating her words, slowly this time, "That ring . . . it means you're- engaged to Malfoy."

There was a beautiful moment of silence that was the absolute definition of _'the calm before the storm'_. And then,

"_WHAT_?!"

Her scream was so loud that Mrs. Weasley's voice rang up from the kitchen.

"Are you lot alright?"

"Yes Mum," Ginny replied.

"You are telling me that I, Harriett Potter, am engaged to _Draco bloody Malfoy_?"

Harry's voice had reached new peaks and it did not seem like she would calm down anytime soon. Not unless someone told her that her friends had had their brains removed in some freak incident that she had not been informed of.

"How in all the pits of Hell can I possibly be engaged to that – that – that _git_?"

"Harry –," Hermione began but was cut off.

"Wait, I get it, this is a joke, right?" Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes. "This is just a sick joke someone played on me, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't think it is –"

"This has got to be a joke! This. Can. Not. Be. Real!"

"Harry, Harriett, please relax," said Hermione as gently as she could, "it's not that bad."

"Relax! Are you out of your mind?!" shrieked not only Harry, but Ron too. Hermione quickly leaned away from her two best friends while Ginny watched the three dazedly with a hint of amusement on her face.

"Of course it's that bad! It's _Draco_ _Malfoy_!" hollered Ron while Harry exclaimed simultaneously, "I can't be _engaged_ to Malfoy, Hermione! I refuse! And I'm going to get this thing off my finger if it is the last thing I do!"

"Alright, _alright_!" yelled Hermione rather uncharacteristically and finally, her best friends calmed down though the both of them were breathing hard like wounded rhinoceroses. "

It _is _a bad thing; there, are you happy now?"

Harry and Ron both turned to her with icy glares.

"I thought not. Anyway, you must please stop shouting, Harry; else, you're going to get nowhere. Someone might run in here thinking that there is an actual problem!"

A hint of shame grazed the other girl's face and she felt it tingle to a pink color. Yet she still replyed in a hiss.

"This is an actual problem Hermione!"

Hermione shook her head slightly. "Why does Malfoy rile you up so much?" she murmured mostly to herself.

"What." Was Harry's snippy reply.

"Oh, never mind."

Harry gave her a suspicious look before returning to the problem at hand.

"Okay," she said with forced tranquility, "I suppose that I need an explanation about this ring and this . . . engagement to . . . well . . ." she trailed off, reluctant to say the name of her fiancé. She flinched at the thought of addressing Malfoy Jr as her "fiancé" and decided that she would never ever call him that.

It was Ginny who supplied the answers to the young heroine.

"It appeared in the papers a couple of months ago. Apparently the Malfoy family has enchanted engagement rings which very few pureblood wizarding families have and . . ."

The youngest Weasley proceeded to explain how the rings worked and everything else she had read from the _Daily Prophet_ including some details her own mother had told her sometime earlier about such rings. When she finished, a long silence stretched while the Girl Who Lived struggled to stomach all the information she had gained within the short space of fifteen minutes.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," she muttered finally, "these weird rings are enchanted to find the perfect wife or husband based on a person's wishes?"

"Yes,' answered Ginny cautiously, wondering whether this calm exterior Harry was suddenly displaying was all but a facade and if she would go supernovae on them again.

"And the Malfoys have a pair of these rings?"

"Yes."

"And he has finally wished upon these rings to find his . . . _wife_?"

"Yeah . . ."

"And this ring came to me; but why? Why would it come to me of all people?"

"Well," Ginny chose her words carefully, "obviously your personality and character matched Malfoy's description of a suitable wife."

Harry snorted and gave a dramatic eye roll. The day that Malfoy would ever want someone like her was the day that it snowed in Hell. However, she decided not to make that particular comment and instead asked, "But he doesn't know who has the ring yet?"

"No."

"But he's looking for me . . .?"

"Well, not really. I mean, the circumstances are such that he would be forced to wait for the girl to come out and show him that she got his ring. He wouldn't exactly know _where_ to look for her, now would he?"

Harry perked up slightly. "So, if I don't tell him, then he would never know?"

"Basically, yes . . . but you're not actually thinking that, Harry Potter?" Ginny looked at her brother's best friend with narrowed eyes.

The Chosen One grinned disarmingly. "You mean if I'm planning on not telling him, ever. Yes! There is no way that I'm going to get _married_ to Draco Malfoy!"

"Good plan," Ron said brightly while Ginny rolled her eyes. As for Hermione, she leaned across her seat and looked Harry in the eye very severely.

"That 'plan' is not going to get you anywhere, Harriett."

"What are you talking about?" Harry leaned back comfortably, completely at ease now. "I'd be free of him, wouldn't I?"

"No, you wouldn't."

"And why not?"

"Because you can't remove that ring from your finger, nor can anyone else. And as long as it is on you, you're legally his fiancée and you cannot get married or even have a relationship with anyone else. The law and the magic that binds you to Malfoy won't allow it. So unless you wish to die single and a virgin, I suggest that you reconsider your master plan."

Harry slumped in her seat. In her ecstasy of thinking that she had found a way out of the engagement, she had utterly forgotten that the ring was stuck on her finger.

_Damn it, she's right_.

"Way to put a cloud over her sunny day," Ron commented dryly to the bushy haired girl upon seeing the forlorn look on Harry's face. Hermione frowned at him but chose not to dignify his words with a reply.

"I have to get this thing off," Harry said suddenly. "I can't walk around with this ring on my finger forever and I sure as Hell am not about to tell Malfoy that I have his stupid ring. And I most certainly shall _not_ marry him!"

"Preach it," Ron said encouragingly.

"Please, you guys," Harry looked at her friends pleadingly, "I need your help to remove it."

"We're with you, mate," Ron said at once.

"Stop it, Ron; you're just getting her hopes high."

"But, Hermione –"

"_No_, Ron."

Harry stared at the girl genius of their generation. "I thought you said you'd support me no matter what my decision is?' she asked, sounding hurt.

Hermione had the grace to look slightly ashamed and guilty.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I really am but it's just not possible to remove it. We could all yank at the ring or try magic on it but the enchantment is much too powerful. It is simply impossible to just take it off."

"But there must be a way! There is always a way. There has to be!"

"Well, there is one way," Ginny piped up.

Harry turned to her desperately. "Yes?"

"You're not gonna like it."

"I don't care."

"I read in the paper that the only one who can remove it is . . . well, your fiancé." Ginny looked at Harry apologetically. "There's no other way."

With a scowl, Harry turned away from her. "I think I'll pass on that one," she groused, crossing her arms. "And _stop_ calling him my "fiancé"."

"But he _is_ your –" Ginny started.

"No, he is not. I don't believe that this is a proper engagement and I refuse to believe he and I are engaged. All that I care about is just taking this bloody ring off."

Hermione sighed tiredly. "Whatever your beliefs, Harry, you are engaged – and legally, too. You can't change that just by denying it."

Harry glared at her. "Well, then, please help me to call off this so-called engagement," she forced through gritted teeth.

"Harry, I've told you, it's just not possible to remove that ring! Else, don't you think that I'd have already done it for you?"

"Okay, this has gone too far," Ron said abruptly, bringing the argument to a halt. He held out his hand to Harry. "Give me your hand, mate."

Feeling curious, Harry meekly obliged. She watched as Ron took her hand carefully in his and raised it to his eyes, inspecting the ring closely, but with a caution that implied that it was a bomb that might blow up in his face any second. He turned her hand this way and that, eying the ring suspiciously for a long moment before letting the tip of his finger just graze over the hexagonal diamond. Harry rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Trust me when I say that it won't bite you, Ron," she said sarcastically while rolling her eyes.

"I'm just checking," he said defensively before looking back down at the ring. After a moment's hesitation, he began to tug at it. Gently at first. But then harder.

"Do you think that I haven't tried that before?"

Ron changed tactics and tried to twist the ring around her finger. Harry tried not to wince at the slight pain. "Tried that, too, Ron."

"What about soap? Or grease? Or - ?"

"Doesn't work," Harry interrupted heavily. "Even my spit refused to do the trick." She ignored the irked expressions that crossed the faces of Hermione and Ginny.

"Magic?" Ron suggested, raising his eyebrows at her.

Harry slowly shook her head. "No . . . but, what spells can we try? I can't think of any that would be powerful enough . . ."

"Accio ring!" Ron pointed his wand at the finger; unsurprisingly, nothing happened.

"Ron," Hermione said finally in a gentle, but firm voice, "magic won't work on a ring of that sort. The enchantments cast upon them are very strong and can't be removed by such simple spells . . ."

Ron was not listening, however. He looked thoughtfully at the small ring for a moment before an expression of grim determination settled on his face.

"Right," he muttered, "I can think of only one way . . . what was tat spell? Sectumsempra?"

Harry realized what Ron had in mind at the same time as Hermione did.

"Ron, what the hell - _no_!" She tried to yank her hand out of his grasp, but heck, he was _strong_!

"There's nothing for it, Harry," he said grimly, aiming his wand at the ring, all the while keeping a firm hold on her hand. "We're gonna have to blast the thing off!"

"Ron," Harry said desperately, fruitlessly pulling at her hand, "I've already considered _diffindo, _and _reducto_, but I decided that I like my finger enough that I actually _don't_ want to lose it! Somehow, I doubt that _bombarda_ will leave my arm, let alone my _finger_, intact!"

"I thinks it would be a good idea and its not like you will be useless with one less finger unless . . . you want to spend the rest of your life barefoot and pregnant stuck in Malfoy Manor with an army of pompous blond, arrogant, slimy snake brats"

He had said enough. In less than a second, Harry had snatched her wand from her pocket and aimed it at her hand, and was just about yell, "Sectumsempra!" when two hands reached over one bonked her a good one on the head the other whacked her wand away sending the curse in another direction making a nice cut in the wall.

"Ow!" Harry groaned, rubbing the back of her head, barely registering the fact that her wand had been hastily knocked from her numb fingers.

"What was that for?" Harry snapped, glaring at Hermione and Ginny. Hermione pointed to the wall.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that," said Harry shamefully.

Hermione gave a huff, "better the wall then your hand!"

Ginny merely snorted and muttered something that sounded like, "Understatement, much?"

"Honestly, cutting off her hand?" Hermione continued loudly, looking back and forth between her two best friends and ignoring that 'I was aiming for my finger' from Harry. "I've never heard something so barbaric!"

"But Hermione," Ron said earnestly, "we have to remove it and this is the only way!"

The brown-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course there is another way. Harry can just simply go up to Malfoy and ask him to remove the ring."

"No!" Harry and Ron said loudly.

"I'm not approaching him with a ten foot broomstick," Harry added, "and certainly not to tell him that I am his fian – I mean, to tell him that I got his ring. Forget about Malfoy for a second, can you imagine the rumors this'll start if it gets out?"

"Harry, you've never been one to care so much about rumors."

"I will if they involve me and Malfoy in a romantic situation!"

Ron gagged.

"You're hopeless," Hermione shook her head while Ginny watched on, amused.

Harry looked pleadingly at Hermione again.

"Mione, please help me. Yes, I know that you say it can't be done, but isn't that only what the _Daily Prophet_ reported? Surely there must be more to these rings. There can be another way to remove it; you know there can be! We just have to find it. Please, Mione, please. Can't we go to the library or something?" Harry looked at her friend with sincere eyes.

Hermione sighed. "Fine, when we get to Hogwarts, I'll see what I can find in the library. But I'm not guaranteeing anything, mind."

"Oh, thank you, Hermione!"

"You will be coming with, I'm not going to sit around and do your dirty work."

"No problem, I'm there!"

"And what if there really is no other way?" Ginny asked curiously letting her gaze fall on Harry.

"Then Harry will just have to tell Malfoy," Hermione answered matter-of-factly, making Harry grimace.

"Well, I say that we leave that as the last resort," Ron spoke up firmly.

Hermione rolled her eyes for what must have been the umpteenth time that day. "At least tell me that that part comes before you subject her poor finger off," she said with a snort.

"Oh, It'll come after," Ron said stubbornly and a part of Harry could not help but agree with him.

"You're impossible. Well, Harry, until such a time that we finally find an answer on how to remove that thing; we first need to plan a way to hide it. It won't be long till someone notices that you've got a diamond engagement ring on your finger, much less a Malfoy one. But it won't be easy because I don't think any magic will work on it, so invisibility spells are out of the question. We'll have to do it manually."

"Hmm . . ." Harry contemplated the problem, "I've got an idea. Come, help me, Ron."

With Ron's aid, Harry soon had found her medical tape. They had opened it and rummage through her belongings until she finally found the healing bandage tape. She ripped a large amount off of the role and went to wrap it around her hand. When she was finished and put everything back she examined her hand. Not a trace of a ring on any finger could be detected.

"Impressive," Ginny remarked, eyeing Harry's hand. "You can't even see a trace of it."

"People won't suspect, will they?" Hermione looked at the fingerless glove with critical eyes.

"I don't think so," Harry shrugged. "People don't often look at hands, do they? Besides, I can pass it that I have a nasty cut from the war. A lot of dark magic was involved and maybe it just hasn't healed properly yet."

"Hmm," Hermione looked slightly skeptical but made no further comment.

"And if anyone asks," Ron added flopping down onto his seat, "Harry can just lie."

"Yeah, but I hope no one does. My brain has a tendency to go blank when I have to make up lies out of the blue."

"Which is just as well," Hermione replied crisply. "Lying is a horrid habit."

As their conversation turned to more normal topics, the case of the ring was erased gradually from Harry's mind.

* * *

The next day Harry had devoted all her time to trying to get the bloody ring off of her finger. Harry and Ron were trying more practical methods, while Hermione and Ginny were searching through a large pile of books surrounding Hermione's trunk.

"Harry I really don't believe that I have anything on magical engagement rings!" said Hermione while flipping through the umpteenth book that day.

"We could always try asking my Mum and Dad," Ginny suggested.

"No," was Harry's quick reply. "I don't want any more to know about this than necessary!"

All of them gave a sigh and went back to work. That was how most of their late summer days were spent. Searching in a pile of book, stopping only occasionally for a game of Quidditch or meals.

At one point Ron had thought he had found something, but it had only turned out to be a way to get jewelry to stick to yourself. Quite the opposite of what they were looking for.

Harry and Ron (much to Ginny's amusement and Hermione's disapproval) had tried to do the classic "teeth pull" move on the ring. Clearly desperate and not thinking straight, they had wrapped a piece of string around the ring and to make sure it would stay they added a sticking charm. Harry and Ron then happily proceeded to go on with their plan. Harry had stood in the girls room with the door shut while Ron had stood outside of the door with Ginny. They closed the door and gave the string a great tug.

Nothing happened.

"Try again!" shouted Harry as Hermione gave a huff of annoyance.

"Gottcha mate!" shouted back Ron. "Here I go!"

This time Harry felt a tug. Her hand pulled towards the door tugging the rest of her body with it. She gave a yelp of surprise before slamming into the bedroom door with a resounding _BANG_! Hermione quickly scrambled off of her bed and went to Harry for support.

Ginny and Ron, who were oblivious to what happened, were repeatedly pulling on the string.

"I think this might be working Harry!" called Ron.

"How's it going on that side Harry?" asked Ginny equally enthused. "Harry?" she asked again when the girl gave no answer.

Ron and Ginny shared a glance before rushing to open the door and see a drowsy Harry topple sideways. She, apparently, had been leaning on the door. Hermione looked up at the two siblings disapprovingly.

"And did you actually think that this would accomplish anything!" she scolded.

"Sorry Mione," mumbled Ron, but he was saved from saying anything else when Harry gave a moan from the floor. The three friends rushed to her aid and helped her sit up.

"Can we please take a break from this Harry? At least for a few days?" pleaded Hermione.

Not being in a position to negotiate Harry nodded. After that experience nothing exiting seemed to occur at the Burrow.

When the rest of the Weasley clan and Hermione had gone off to Diagon Alley to get the rest of their school supplies, Harry had politely declined saying that she had already gotten all she needed. When Hermione and Ginny came back and went up to bed, to their amusement they found Harry asleep with wild hair, and was half drooling on a book.

They really needed to get this ring ordeal sorted out. And soon.

Summer flew by and before the trio knew it, it was time to head off for Kings Cross Station. Little did Harry know, her problems would become even more prominent once returning to school.

Why couldn't she have a _normal_ life?

* * *

**. . . .Skip ahead to 3 months later . . . **

* * *

It was very crowded.

It was always crowded on Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station and normally Draco didn't mind it. It was a place to hold his head high and represent that Malfoy name. But, standing here surrounding be gawking strangers, he hated it. It seemed like all they could do was focus on him.

"Pay them no mind, Draco," said Narcissa from beside him. "Let them stare."

Draco continued to push his trolley in front of him, searching for an empty compartment in the scarlet engine that was the Hogwarts Express. He distracted himself from the crowd by thinking of the upcoming school year. He was quite glad that he had not refused his mother when she had offered to see him off; her presence was soothing and gave him the confidence to hold his head high and make his way through all the witches and wizards on the platform, most of whom stopped in their tracks and gaped at the Malfoys with open mouths and wide eyes.

Next to him, Narcissa Malfoy walked with graceful steps, her posture held straight and proud, and with dignity in her eyes. Draco unconsciously imitated her. Neither mother, nor son, would give the public any chance of deeming them weak or vulnerable. It was something they could not help but doing.

Draco even allowed himself to meet the eyes of some of the onlookers. Some were looking at the Malfoys' with hostility or mistrust - no surprises there - but most seemed to be in awe of them.

_No doubt because scar-head defended us at the Wizengamot._

He stared down at a young girl who had been gaping in a blatant manner at him as he passed by. Really, it was almost shocking how much everyone seemed to rely on the words or opinions of their heroine. A few defensive words from Harriett Potter on the Malfoys' behalf and everyone felt awed by them; respected them even. And to think that – before Potter's interference – the entire public had been hoping that the ex-Death Eater family would be executed!

_People can be such idiots. _

Not that he was complaining about what Potter had done.

"What about here, darling?" Narcissa asked suddenly, "It seems empty enough . . . "

Draco nodded and heaved his trunk onto the train through the open door. He then turned to bid his mother farewell. But, before he could even open his mouth, however, he overheard the whispered mutters of a passing group of staring, giggling, girls whom he vaguely recognized as a group of seventh year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Through their squeaks and shrieks he could make out some phrases . . .

"Can you believe-?"

"And he's so young too!"

"– engaged already –"

"I think it's romantic!"

"– magical engagement rings or something."

"Wonder who the lucky girl is?"

"- is pretty handsome – "

"– supposed to find the perfect girl! Isn't that amazing?"

"_One true love_!"

"Wish it were me . . ."

"Can you see his ring?"

"Oh! There! On his finger, I see it!"

"Oh my goodness! It's as _gorgeous_ _as him_!"

Draco, burned with embarrassment, and gave the gawking teenagers one strong condescending glare and sent them scurrying. He dropped the expression when they had disappeared and a look of pain mixed with irritation swept across his pointed features.

How could he have forgotten? Of course everyone in the Wizarding World knew of his unusual engagement, thanks to the media. It was not surprising that even after nearly three months since the news had been printed in the _Prophet_, the hot gossip had not cooled down. It was only expected, after all, with him being an ex-Death Eater set free thanks to his old school rival who happened to be everyone's favorite heroine.

And it seemed that the world was more interested in Draco Malfoy's sort-of love life than in the whole Death Eater-turned-good-guy-whose-mother-had-saved-Harry-Potter's-life thing. Could you say _shallow_?

He was snapped out of his thoughts by his mother.

"Stay strong, Draco," she said encouragingly. "I know you are strong enough to put up through all the gossip and rumors. You will find your fiancé soon enough."

"When, Mother?" he asked, giving her an exasperated look.

"I'm getting rather tired of all the speculations that the _Daily Prophet_ has taken to printing about me and my unknown fiancée! I doubt that it would be much of an improvement to go to school and actually listen to people saying them out loud to my own face!"

"I understand, love," she answered gently. "But, please, you must be patient. It will all die down after you meet your bride-to-be. I know it."

"Mother, it's been three months! Not one single girl has come forth – unless you count the desperate woman who made a fake Malfoy ring and claimed to be my fiancée!" He shuddered at the unpleasant memory of the yippy, twenty year old witch in fluorescent pink robes who was wearing too much make-up. She had turned up at the Malfoy Manor barely two days after his birthday. Draco had almost suffered cardiac arrest right then and there.

"Patience, Draco, please have patience. I have given this a lot of thought and I am rather keen to the fact that the girl might be one you attend school with."

"What?"

"Perhaps that is the reason we have not heard from her yet; she might have been waiting till the return to Hogwarts so as to properly meet you and make herself known as your fiancée, Draco. It is quite probable."

"Perhaps," repeated Draco a little doubtfully. He had to admit though, he did not think of that.

"In any case," Narcissa smiled brightly at her son, "my heart tells me that you shall find the girl soon. So, do not fret, love. And as soon as you know who it is, please do not delay in owling me."

"Of course, Mother."

"Now, take care of yourself, my dear and . . ." she trailed off.

"And?" Draco questioned, encouraging her to go on.

Narcissa sighed slightly.

"Draco," she said very seriously, "you are aware that Harriett Potter . . ."

There was a tense silence that stretched on for a few agonizing seconds.

"What about her, Mother?" he finally asked with a slight edge to his voice which he could not hide.

She sighed again before continuing.

"Darling, you know that we owe her much; she has done us a great service by defending us at the court. However – correct me if I'm wrong – I do not think that your dislike for her has changed very much."

Draco gazed down at Narcissa with an unreadable look in his mercury eyes.

"You are right," he said bluntly, "it hasn't."

"I thought as much," his mother murmured in a rather discouraged manner.

"In any case, the point I want to make is that we're on the same side now, regardless of what you feel for her. The war is over. I would rather that you do not get into one of your petty quarrels from now on. It would be useless, and you would gain nothing but pointless enemies if you pick a fight with her." Narcissa looked at him pleadingly. "You do understand what I am trying to say, don't you, Draco?"

"I do, Mother," he answered somewhat reluctantly.

"You do not have to like her," she pressed on. "Just be civil. And if you cannot do that, ignore her at least. But, _please_, do not break the truce that has been formed between us. She is a useful ally and I would rather that we stay on the same side as her."

"Mother, I understand," Draco repeated. "Our reputation and our name is at stake and you do not want it further tarnished than it already –"

"No, Draco, this is not only about our reputation. This is about our life. We are on the Light Side now and I, for one, am tired of enemies and war. I just want to spend the rest of my days in peace with my family. Making enemies with Potter merely because of a childhood rivalry will only disturb this calm that has descended upon the world. Please, just keep a civil tongue, Draco . . . do not get into entanglements with her, or any other person in Hogwarts, Gryffindor or otherwise," she added as an afterthought.

Draco nodded stiffly. "Very well, then, Mother, I shall stay out of her way."

Narcissa smiled at him. "Thank you, my dear."

The shrill noise of a whistle being blown broke through the noise and murmurings of many people.

"The train is about to leave. Farewell, darling." Narcissa embraced her son lovingly.

"Goodbye, Mother; I shall write soon." He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek before stepping onto the train. However, a sudden thought occurred to him and he turned around abruptly to scrutinize her through the still open door.

"You like her, Harriett Potter, don't you?" he questioned, watching her.

Narcissa simply smiled at him.

"I admit that I have certainly grown a little fond of her. That she saved my family from life imprisonment when she could have stood back and allowed the Ministry to throw us in Azkaban. That is not something that I can lightly brush aside. I have actually talked to her, and she is a fine young witch. She is a clever and very polite."

Draco gave a snort in a very un-Malfoyish-way and said, "She merely did it because you saved her life . . . only because of that."

"Perhaps, but I respect her for that. My saving her was purely unintentional; at the time, I was only thinking of _you_, Draco and I know that she is perfectly aware of that. Yet, she still saved us and I maintain that she is a woman of honor, very much deserving of my respect."

Draco stared at his mother, trying to understand her logic but at that moment, the train door had slammed shut and he could not question her further. The train began to move and Draco quickly moved to the window. His mother smiled and waved at him as the train moved further away from King's Cross. He lifted up his hand a waved in return. Just before the train went about the corner, he saw his mother give him one last wave before disapparating.

* * *

"Hullo, Harry," sung a dreamy voice.

"Hello Luna!"

Turning away from the Hogwarts Express, Harry smiled at the Ravenclaw of whom she had become extremely fond of.

"How have you been doing?"

The blonde looked at Harry, her usual dreamy smile etched upon her face and her orange radish earrings swinging from her earlobes. "Most wonderful, it felt good to finally have some tranquility and be at home."

"Yes, it was," murmured Harry, thinking of her latest summer which had been the most peaceful compared to all the others she had had ever since her entrance to the magical world.

"How's your father?" she added a little tersely.

Whereas she rather liked Xenophilius Lovegood despite his eccentricity, she did have some ill feelings towards him for betraying her to the Death Eaters a few months earlier, even if he had been only trying to save his daughter who had been captured by Voldemort's supporters.

"He's fine as well," Luna replied; and as if she had read Harry's thoughts, she looked at Harry with her large eyes and added, "Daddy wanted me to send his apologies to you as he cannot meet you in person; he said that he wronged you greatly and wants you to forgive him if you can . . . but what was Daddy apologizing for?" She gave Harry a mildly curious look.

Harry shook her head slightly.

"Nothing too important."

She was not sure how to answer to Xenophilius' apology; he had betrayed her, after all, and she and Ron and Hermione had barely escaped with their lives! But it was all in the past now and not of much consequence.

_I suppose that I could forgive him_, she mused and said so to Luna who nodded vaguely.

Falling into a comfortable silence, they both returned their attention to the train and resumed pushing their trolleys forward, searching for an available compartment and their friends.

Harry had split up from Ron and Hermione before going to board The Hogwarts Express. She wanted to walk around and clear her mind before going onto the small and crowed train for hours.

Unsurprisingly, most of the compartments at the front and in the middle of the train were occupied and the two girls made their way through the crowded platform to the back of the train. Along the way, Harry was fully aware of all the looks and stares that she was attracting. She tried to ignore them, feeling the color rise in her cheeks. People had stared at her often before and she ought to be used to the attention, but this was different. Before, they stared because she was the Girl-Who-Lived; now, it was because she had become their savior. It was all heroine-worshipping now. Frankly, Harry did not know which one was worse.

"Harry! Luna!"

Harry looked around at the familiar voice and beamed. "Hey, Neville."

Neville Longbottom was on his hands and knees on the ground from where he had been peering under his trolley and around him.

"Lost Trevor again?" she asked mildly amused, referring to his pet toad which had escaped countless times from the Gryffindor boy.

"Yeah; he still hasn't lost his touch at hide and seek," responded Neville jokingly, raising his face so that Harry got a proper look at him. She winced slightly. Neville Longbottom was no longer the round-faced, forgetful boy who got intimidated by anything and everything. He was a man now and he still bore the scars from the cruel journey that had led him to manhood. Harry could all too clearly see the harsh, half-healed wounds on his face that he had gotten from Alecto and Amycus Carrow during his 'punishments' the previous year. His features also no longer had the naive, boyish innocence from his earlier years; the difference was almost shocking.

Neville noticed the guilty look that came to his friend's face at the sight of the wicked marks on his face. He smiled brightly at her.

"Don't worry, they don't hurt anymore," he said simply.

Harry managed a small smile at him.

"Would you like some help looking for Trevor, Neville?" Luna asked dreamily. Without waiting for an answer, she dropped to all fours beside him.

Neville looked bemusedly at her.

"Er, thanks, Luna." He turned to Harry. "If you're looking for Ron and Hermione, they're further down the train. Why don't you go on ahead? We'll catch up with you soon."

"You sure? I really don't-"

"Don't be silly, go ahead!"

"Right. Thanks Neville." With a grateful look at her loyal friend, Harry continued on her way.

It did not take very long to locate the Weasley clan. Their flaming red hair was like beacons even in the smoky air and when she got closer; she also caught sight of a head of bushy brown hair amongst them. With a grin, she approached them silently.

* * *

"Draco."

The young Malfoy heir turned around in irritation, ready to 'get the bird' to the unwanted person behind him! He had already had his name called from every direction, mostly by girls _gushing_ over his romantic engagement ordeal and the ring. He was sick of the attention!

Just as he was raising his finger to flash it, he noticed that the young man behind him was a friend. Draco halted his actions. It was Blaise Zabini, someone that Draco Malfoy most certainly did not want to flip off.

Blaise appeared amused as he glanced at Draco's still half-raised hand with a cocked eyebrow and sly expression across his face.

"Were you just about to do what I think you were about to do?"

The blond merely rolled his eyes.

"As a matter of fact, Zabini, yes I was. My patience and self-control can only hold out for so long."

"Of course," Blaise chuckled. His dark, handsome eyes took in the trunk that his fellow Slytherin was hauling behind him. "Looking for a compartment? You're welcome to join me, Draco, if you wish. There's no one else in here."

Draco glanced at the empty compartment through which his friend had come out and nodded both in agreement and thanks. Blaise held the door open for him as he entered, acknowledging the gesture with a half-smile. A minute later, Draco's trunk was tucked away in the luggage hold and they were seated opposite one another, taking in each other's appearance.

Draco almost immediately noticed that Blaise had grown since last he had seen him. He was probably as tall as him now and he also appeared to have bulked up. Yet, just like always, his deep brown hair was neatly combed and his skin was bronzed to perfection.

"You look well," he remarked to Blaise. "I presume that you haven't had to deal with many problems since the fall of the Dark Lord?"

His companion raised an eyebrow. "And you make that presumption based upon my looking "well"? Don't make such flimsy assumptions, Draco . . . just because someone appears to be doing well, does not mean that he may have gone through hell. Look at yourself for an example; Merlin knows the trouble that you have been through, yet you look just as _well _as ever.

"I am a Malfoy, Blaise. I have an image I need to uphold."

His friend merely shook his head in amusement.

"How were the trials?" he asked with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Draco grimaced. "Not the most pleasant of times. You should be glad that your family stood neutral in the war, Blaise. At least you escaped the humiliation of imprisonment and being labelled as a Death Eater."

"Yet, you are free now. And if the _Prophet_ is to be believed, it was all thanks to Miss One-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Forgotten."

Draco's gray eyes hardened slightly, but he nodded.

"It's true then?' Blaise stared at his friend incredulously. "_Harriett Potter_ saved your family from life in Azkaban?"

"Yes," the other Slytherin forced out through his clenched teeth.

His friend look amazed. "Could I ask as to why? The _Prophet_ didn't really specify the event."

"Later. I am not in any mood to discuss that Gryffindork, or the trial"

"You do realize that your on the same side now?"

"Regardless, Zabini, I don't have to like her! I am not obligated to shower her with praises like the rest of the idiots in the world."

"Fine, have it your way then. What is this engagement I hear of?"

Draco summarized what had happened in the last three months ago and explained the history of the magical Malfoy engagement rings. When he finished, Blaise let out a low whistle of suprise.

"It has already been three months and this girl has _still_ has not come forth?"

Draco shook his head slowly, and Blaise could see a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "No . . . and I don't know why."

"Do you have any idea of who it can be? Any guesses even?"

"My Mother is believing that she is a schoolmate and that I will meet her in Hogwarts."

"Hmm . . . that is very probable."

"Blaise," Draco met his friend's gaze steadily, "I really want to find this girl. I need to. Will you help me look for her?"

Blaise gave a brilliant smile. "Of course, Draco," he said simply.

* * *

"How was your fresh air Harry?" asked Ron as she stood beside her best friends once again.

"It was _very_ lovely," Harry replied with a hint of sarcasm. As she found Hermione and the Weasley clan the Hogwarts train whistles sounded. In the next moment, Mrs. Weasley had guided her two youngest children along with Harry and Hermione on to the train while George helped to pull the last of the school trunks on board. They leaned out of the window, resting their elbows on the ledge, and waved goodbye while saying their farewells.

"Take care, my dears," Mrs. Weasley said, "and don't forget to study hard. Hermione you keep an eye on them!"

Hermione chuckled and yelled out, "Of course Mrs. Weasley!"

"And don't blow up the school!" added George with a half-hearted wink as the train began to move.

"But if you do, let me in on it!" he added with a grin, seemingly regaining a fraction of his old sense of humor. His last words earned him a slap on the shoulder from his mother. The rest of them chuckled and waved at the two Weasleys on the platform until the train had rounded the corner and they disappeared from their view.

"Well," said Ron, turning to his sister and friends, "let's go find a compartment."

"I think the ones in the back are free yet," said Ginny helpfully.

"Right, let's go."

As they dragged the trunks down the corridors, the occupants in the compartments turned to stare at them and some even popped their heads out of the doors as they passed by. Harry tried not to pay them too much, as she was used to it, but her friends were having a harder time than her.

"Bloody hell, Harry," remarked Ron with dry amusement in his voice when yet another younger student pressed his face to the glass doors to get a better look at them, "your fan club just keeps getting bigger and bigger, doesn't it?"

"Well they're staring at you too," muttered Harry.

"Sure, sure, but I think you _might_ still the main point of interest," teased Ginny.

Ron and Hermione's laughter rang out while Harry just scoffed in reply.

At last, they reached the blissful solitude of an empty carriage which they quickly claimed as their own. They tucked their trunks away and they flopped down on to the seats and proceeded to wait for Neville and Luna who, Harry informed, were on their way.

Halfway through their wait, Ron suddenly remarked,

"It's going to be hectic for the teachers, isn't it; with the large number of first years they'll have to manage?"

"Yeah," the rest of them nodded.

Hogwarts was reopening in such a way that all the students were in the grades that they had been in the previous year, so that they could learn the actual syllabus set for their grade and erase the cruel lessons taught them by the Death Eaters the year before. This meant that the former seventh years that had attended school last year, like Neville, would be in their seventh year as well. It also meant that along with the former first years, the new batch of eleven-year-olds would be joining the school as well, thus nearly doubling the number of students in Year One! The first year dormitories were sure to be crowded.

"I pity the prefects," sniggered Ron. "Those midgets are gonna take the energy right out of those prefects!"

"That's nice, Ron," said Ginny sarcastically while Harry chuckled and Hermione frowned disapprovingly at the red-head.

"Glad, Ronald?" Hermione asked coolly, "that you and I are no longer prefects because we dropped out last year?"

"Well, I'm certainly not complaining," Ron answered bluntly. "Keeping up with homework, while playing Quidditch AND doing duties at the same time was a right pain in the arse; and don't look at me like that, Hermione, just because _you're _unhappy that you weren't made Head Girl. You did chose to drop out and go after You Know Who's bloody Horcruxes!"

"Well of course I did!" exclaimed Hermione, looking scandalized. "I was not _accusing_ you and Harry of my not being made Head Girl! I was just pointing out that you have a negative attitude when it comes to leadership."

"What?! I do _not_!"

Harry exchanged amused glances with Ginny. Her two best friends still bickered like an old married couple. The familiarity of the scene had brought a comforting and happy vibe to their small train compartment.

"Alright, enough, you two," Ginny finally said before the argument completely skyrocketed. "We haven't even reached Hogwarts yet and you're already at it!"

The two teens in question fell silent, Ron held up his hands in surrender and Hermione, who still looked like she wanted to give Ron a good lecture. Ginny shook her head and laughed.

The train tugged on as they went on to new topics, but the only thing Harry could think was how much she couldn't wait to be back at Hogwarts.

* * *

**A/N: So that was a huuuuge chapter because these were both small chapters and I felt like you guys are awesome so you deserve it! (:**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey readers! PLease don't hate me! *hides behind tree* my Harry and Draco muses needed a break. I know lame excuse. But I can promise my next update will be sooner than this! Happy August everyone- I hope you had a wonderful July 31st celebrating Neville, Harry, and J.K Rowling's Birthdays! xD Which brings me to my disclaimer. . .**

**DISCLAIMER****: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belong to J K Rowling, and all "Malfoy Ambition" related things belong to Goddess Blue, as well as all "Unorthodox Matchmakers" related things belong to Phoenix Soar. Everything else belongs to me; it's really a very simple concept to grasp. (;**

**WARNINGS****: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight ****OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear here and there.**

* * *

**FIGHTING SHACKLES  
CHAPTER FIVE: FALLING FOR HIM?**

* * *

Blaise Zabini was one of the few people that Draco actually considered a friend. He was a new found friend, but that did not make a difference. He was a true friend, with opinions and morals who could keep an intelligent conversation. Not much could be said for Crabbe and Goyle, his two former friends. Crabbe had died in the fiendfyre that he had created himself; and though Draco had not cared for either of his "bodyguards" much, his death had affected him. Although, not as much as it affected Goyle who had been much closer to Crabbe. Eventually, Draco and Goyle had drifted apart. Draco had been all alone, without so much as a bodyguard or a mere acquaintance, other than Pansy . . . until he found the Zabinis.

Of course he had always known the Zabinis. They had been in the same Hogwarts house and they talked time from time, but he was never before considered a friend. In the war they had stood natural, blending into the shadows waiting for the outcome; careful not to upset the light or dark so they could claim loyalty to the victorious side. When the Light had won the war, they had duly pledged their allegiance to that side, thus anchoring their safety. This showed cleverness and cunning skill, traits for a Slytherin and a strong ally.

Once the Malfoys had changed allegiances, the Zabini had come to stand by them, recognizing them to be useful. An acquaintanceship had been formed between the two wizarding families that had slowly morphed into something deeper which turned into a friendship. Draco had learned to trust Blaise like no one else he had met. Soon, Blaise had turned from a mere fellow-Slytherin-with-whom-I-share-my-dormitory with to a true friend.

They understood each other.

This was the reason to why Draco was currently telling Blaise everything concerning his engagement in great detail and also trying to explain why he was so eager to find his fiancée as they trudged through the corridors of the train which had stopped at Hogsmeade Station.

"It's strange; at first, the very thought of marrying so young was so . . . revolting. But after some time I've become rather taken up with the idea. It wouldn't be so bad, and it is not like we have to marry each other right away. We can get to know each other, after all that is what the rings about."

"I figured that much, Draco. But what I cannot understand is how one can one change their mind so suddenly?"

Draco flushed a light pink, feeling a little embarrassed, but he answered nevertheless. Dropping his voice so that the students around them, most of who had taken up making doe-eyes at him, would not over hear his next words."

"Ever since I began to see that the Dark Lord was out of his right mind and my ideas about blood and power began to change, it's like as if all the other ideas and views I've had of this world changed too. Money, power, status, blood and everything else, they did not seem so important. And the surprising thing is that I think my parents' views of them have also changed just like mine. I know it sounds cheesy, but it is true."

Blaise raised his eyebrows at him in question as they squeezed past a group of nervous 'new' first years as they continued to make their way towards the crowded doorway.

"That still does not answer my question."

"How do I explain it? I suppose that you could say that before my change of heart, if I had to find a girl, I would want no one less than drop dead gorgeous, with a lot of money and status, a Slytherin and also who is pure-blooded. But after my views turned the exact opposite, I've always wondered what it would be like to be with someone who I actually care about, who would truly love me, with whom I could be happy as opposed to being with a beautiful, wealthy girl only to boost my status. Someone who I would truly like to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who chose me, and I chose out of love."

"And I'm guessing that is exactly what you wished upon the ring for, right? To find such a girl, did you?" Blaise grinned rather mischievously.

"Yes," muttered Draco, his pale cheeks going pink once again, "I did. And now that the ring has found her, I really want to know who she is; I want to find the girl who is exactly the sort of person that I really want . . . and claim her as my own."

Draco realized with a start that he had once again made quite a sappy speech; his brain seriously needed some bleach if he were to stop spouting such rubbish! He quickly glanced at Blaise and was not surprised to see the smirk that was curling his lips. Draco scowled out of embarrassment.

"Don't you dare think about mocking me, Zabini; else I'll personally make sure that you regret it."

Blaise chuckled warmly as they finally reached the doorway that opened to a dark, chilly night. "Alright; it's just that I did not expect you to be such a romantic under that cool Malfoy exterior."

Draco glared at him before turning his back and descending from the Hogwarts Express. "I will have you know, Blaise, that I am most certainly not a rom –"

"Draco, watch out!"

Startled, the young Slytherin turned to ask what Blaise was shouting about. But he could not even get a single word out before he heard a series of loud crashes. A pained yell and a warning shout called to him, and then something crashed right on top of him. His instincts kicked in at once and Draco took a step back with his right leg to keep his balance. His arms automatically went around what had fallen on him – or rather, who.

His eyes, which had closed preparing for impact, shot open and Draco felt his next breath catch in his throat. His own eyes were staring straight into a pair of captivating, sparkling emerald green ones.

* * *

"Unreal, isn't it," muttered Ron as they made their way through all the students to get off the train, "to return to Hogwarts?"

"What'd you mean, Ron?" asked Ginny, throwing her brother a confused look.

"I dunno . . . it's just- I mean we're back, but it doesn't feel like coming back to Hogwarts; I can't explain it."

Harry personally did not need Ron to explain what he meant; she knew. Before, coming to Hogwarts had always been pleasant and filled with happy memories . . . and now, everything had changed. There was no Dumbledore, so many former students had been killed in the war including a few under-aged ones, and the place would be filled with the memories of that bittersweet night when they had fought Voldemort from dusk till dawn. So many things had happened . . . Ron was right; it felt strange, perturbing even.

No one else said anything to Ron's words (except for Luna who hummed a song Harry remember from when the Weird Sisters had sang at the Yule Ball under her breath) when they got the gist of what he was saying; there really was nothing that one could say to that.

In an obvious effort to change the topic, Neville piped up.

"Wonder if McGonagall is going to continue teaching Transfiguration now that she's been made headmistress? Or do you think that they've found a new teacher for that?"

"I don't know," Hermione answering thoughtfully. "I haven't really heard of anyone doing that."

Silence fell upon them again, but it was comfortably so. Soon, they were within sight of the door that was, as always, crowded with students. Harry led the way, 'politely' pushing her way through everyone, eager to leave the suffocative atmosphere of the mobbed train. She was almost at the door when she heard Ron and Neville both shout out at her in alarmed, warning tones.

More than a little surprised, she turned her head back to see what was happening while her body reacted instinctively and moved to get out of the way of anything that could harm her but – too late. On first turning her head, Harry had already seen the girl slip and fall forward, the heavy stack of books she was carrying falling to the ground with many a crash, and her arms flailing wildly to regain her balance. She now saw the girl crash against another girl who happened to be right behind Harry, making her fall forwards too –

Next thing Harry knew, something slammed heavily against her back making her cry out with pain and she experienced a sensation of flying as the impact sent her hurtling forward out of the train. Harry squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to feel the hard roughness of the ground against her front at any moment, but that moment never came. Instead, she felt something warm and lean cushion her fall; there was a winded grunt and she felt arms going around her and she realized with heightened embarrassment that she had fallen not on the ground, but onto _someone_.

She opened her eyes, ready to apologies, but saw that the other person had his eyes closed and she worried at once that her fall had injured the person. Harry leaned her head back slightly so as to properly see the blurred features of the one who had broken her fall, but it was completely unnecessary. Next moment, the eyes had opened and Harry found herself gazing with shock into liquid mercury orbs that she could recognize anywhere.

_Oh no, not him! Anyone, _anyone_ but him_.

Time seemed to come to a standstill and everything else blurred and paled into an insignificance background as Harry and Malfoy stared at each other, both of them speechless. She could feel shivers running down her back when the realization of how close they were came to her as Malfoy's warm breath blew over her flushed face.

They were mere centimeters apart from one another.

Harry also grew vaguely aware that her arms had become looped about his neck, probably when she had fallen on him, and her cheeks grew redder. Malfoy was still holding her up and she was pressed flush against him; Harry could easily feel the heat radiating off him through the fabric of their robes.

Growing very self-conscious of herself, and of how much she was blushing, Harry tried to look away from him but it was impossible; her eyes were drawn to his, like the pull of a magnet. She had always known they had been a gleaming greyish in color, much like Sirius' eyes (no wonders, there; they were from the same family), but Harry had never really bothered to look; which was probably why she had never noticed the soft shades of silver in the irises and the light, granite grey that outlined them. She had heard girls giggling and gossiping about Malfoy's dreamy eyes but Harry had always walked away with a scoff and an eye-roll. Harry gazed deeply into his eyes which seemed almost immeasurable, marveling at the beauty she had never bothered to notice before. They were almost like sparkling diamonds . . . Just like the hidden diamond that rested on her finger right now.

The diamond . . .

. . . diamond engagement ring . . .

. . . She was engaged to Draco Malfoy . . .

. . . Draco Malfoy . . .

_His Fiancé._

And she abruptly came to her senses and full realization of the kind of position she was in. The impact hit her like a clichéd ton of bricks – not to mention what the scene would look like to watchful eyes around them. Speaking of which . . .

Someone had just called out a wolf-whistled and a few giggles were heard, and all the background scenes and noises that had seemingly disappeared from around them both were brought into focus. A quick glance showed that many students had stopped to watch them, eager to see what would happen next; it was not every day that one got to see two top rivals, who hated each other with a passion, fall into a very suggestive – not to mention ever so romantic – position. Harry cursed inwardly for her never relenting bad luck.

Her eyes returned to Malfoy who, too, had noticed the small crowd gathered around them. He gave her an unreadable look and Harry almost expected him to drop her; but, to her immense surprise, he set her down rather gently. She quickly dropped her arms from his neck and he removed his from her waist. A sudden blast of cold air enveloped her as he stepped back, taking the warmth of his body away from her. For a second, she almost wished that she was back in his arms again, but next moment, she scolded herself for even thinking such thoughts. This was bloody _Malfoy_! She had no right to wish that she was in Draco Malfoy's arms, not even if she had his bloody engagement ring!

_Oh bloody no, the ring! _

Harry immediately slipped her left hand into the folds of her robes so he would not see the ring, conveniently forgetting that it was already hidden by the façade bandage.

Malfoy stared at her for a moment longer before turning to walk away, followed by a smirking Blaise Zabini who Harry had not noticed up until that point. And Harry, being Harry, called a soft, almost unbearable "Sorry" after her rival, recalling with mortification the way in which she had nearly crushed the life out of him. She immediately regretted apologizing, though. Knowing Malfoy, he would probably just ignore her or more likely sneer at her and make her feel like a fool for apologizing. But her arch-enemy shocked her for a second time that night by actually pausing and turning around to give her a curt nod to acknowledge her apology before hurrying away down the hall. Harry gaped after him.

How many more shocks could she take in one day?

With a shake of her head, Harry turned back to the train, pointedly ignoring the hushed whispers and heated stares that were still emitting from the on looking crowd. Her eyes were met with the site of Ginny who was biting down on her finger to stifle her laughter, Ron looking somewhere between clubbed in the head and ready to hurl, Hermione smirking at her with a knowing look in her brown eyes, Luna busy counting the stars in the night sky and Neville looking downright confused.

Harry glared at them in annoyance.

"What?" she snapped and headed back towards her destination.

* * *

"I don't want to hear a word, Zabini," Draco growled warningly, "not one word."

Blaise chuckled in amusement, but thankfully did not comment on that little 'moment' he just shared with Potter. But knowing Blaise Zabini, his silence on the topic would not last forever; Draco would have to face the questions and/or comments later on and there would be no turning them away. Blaise was extremely . . . persuasive.

Draco hugged his cloak closer about his body as he hurried towards the school carriages, trying to force his own mind not to dwell on what had just taken place. Of all the people that could have fallen on top of him, it just had to be Harry Potter against all odds! Not that he knew why he was feeling so bothered about that; Potter fell on him, he put her down, he walked away, end of story. So, why were those few, but seemingly long moments lingering on in his mind? Why was it that Potter always manage to mess him up?

Only, during that time when he had seen those jade green eyes of hers so close, he had completely forgotten about hating her. Her orbs had been so mesmerizing. Harriett Potter's eyes were the most brilliant shade of green. They were enchanting and possessed a sort of haunting elegance. Even through the very obvious surprise and embarrassment in her eyes, he had been able to see her fiery, charismatic nature in them, along with a beautiful innocence that seemed to speak of uncountable terrors that had plagued a pure heart. Draco had almost drowned in it – until the on looking crowd had interrupted the moment. He was not sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"We're here," said Blaise, pulling Draco out of his thoughts. With a shake of his head, Draco pushed away all thoughts of Harry Potter out of his mind and tried to concentrate on the present. He realized that they had finally reached the carriages. Spying an empty one, he made to lead Blaise to it when he suddenly noticed what was pulling it and stopped dead in his tracks. The other boy behind him barely managed to halt his steps to prevent walking right into the Malfoy heir.

"What is it, Draco?" Blaise asked, looking puzzled with a hint of concern.

Draco was silent for several seconds before he whispered, "So, that's what they look like!"

"What are you- who's they?"

Draco answered this time, but continued to stare straight ahead at the creature that was harnessed to the carriage he had been about to enter. For the very first time, Draco Malfoy was seeing a Thestral.

It was strange to look at what with the flesh-less black skin clinging to every bone of the horse-like body, yet the creature was hauntingly beautiful at second glance. The Thestral had an innocent, and calming look. The pupil-less eyes glowed white in the darkness, the strong wings were folded close about its body and the tail and mane were of messy black hair that gleamed in the moonlight . . . much like the messy black hair of a certain Gryffindor that had just taken a nasty fall on top of Draco.

"It's a Thestral, am I right?" Blaise's voice shook him from his thoughts.

Draco gave his head a light shake before nodding mutely.

"You can see them now?" his friend asked in what could almost be called an awed whisper.

"I saw the former Muggle Studies teacher being murdered by the Dark Lord," Draco answered shortly.

Blaise looked at him expressionlessly, but did not answer. What did one say to another who just admitted to witnessing a murder?

Draco sighed. "Let's go," he muttered and stepped into the carriage, tearing his eyes away from the magical creature. Blaise followed in silence.

As the carriage began to move, the blond leaned his head back against the carriage wall and allowed his eyes to close, willing away all unpleasant memories from his mind. At the present, Draco Malfoy only wanted to concentrate on making his life take a turn for the better – such as finally finding his elusive fiancée.

_Just where could she be?_

After his fiancé had not come out for three months Draco was beginning to be worried. His worries fell upon the one thing that he had never thought of as a disadvantage- his looks.

Draco was not usually a self-conscious person. He had always known he was good looking and used his incredible charm to get though tough ordeals his whole life. He stood tall at six foot-one and had striking eyes. His hair, which Pansy always seemed to have a comment for, was a light platinum and extremely soft to the touch. Not like Draco would ever say it out loud but he loved it when people would stroke his hair. It made him feel calm. He could defiantly do with some calm right now.

_Maybe the girl has not shown herself because she doesn't like my appearance. _

Draco tried to let that thought slip. It was never a problem before. Actually his looks had been a problem . . . but that was merely because too many girls were swooning over him. How ironic would it be if his future wife would not come out because she did not like his appearance? Draco shook himself out of his own insecure thoughts and gazed up at the castle ahead.

Soon enough the castle was towering over Draco, and he leapt out of the carriage and made his way through the crowd with Blaise trailing only a step behind him.

* * *

"Whoa whoa, am I hearing this right?" Neville exclaimed. "_You_ actually got his ring? Harry Potter? _Malfoy's_ ring? Malfoy's _engagement _ring?!"

"Merlin, Neville! Why don't you climb to the top of the North Tower and shout a little louder?" suggested Harry in a sarcastic hiss as they climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Not surprisingly, the whole engagement deal had been revealed to Neville and Luna during the carriage ride to Hogwarts. It was not like Harry didn't trust the two of them; they were very loyal and wonderful people. She just wanted as little people to know about this as possible.

"Sorry," mumbled Neville, flushing slightly, "but, it's just that . . . well, I know how those weird rings work, finding the person of your dreams and everything; but how in the world did _you_ get _Malfoy's_ ring?"

"Neville," Ron said seriously, slinging a confidential arm around the other boy's shoulder, "that's what we'd all like to know."

"Oh, honestly, you three!" said Hermione as they entered the Hall. "It's not the end of the world! We have dealt with much worse! In fact, I think it's rather cute."

Harry, who had been busy eyeing around the Entrance Hall which looked the same as it ever did without any signs of the damage caused in the battle that had taken place inside it just months ago, took a few seconds to fully register what Hermione had just said.

"_Cute_?" Harry stared at the bushy-haired girl in mild surprise. "And just what do you mean by _cute_?"

Hermione flushed slightly. She had obviously not meant for Harry to hear those words.

"Oh, it's nothing."

"Mione . . ." Harry looked at her with suspicious narrowed eyes. Hermione looked back at her innocently with a modest smile on her face.

Ginny exchanged a glance with the brown-eyed girl and began to giggle.

"Oh, I give up!" Ron, who had been watching with raised eyebrows, threw up his hands and almost knocked over a passing third year, who quickly scrambled out of the way. "It's been eight years with you lot and still don't understand girls! What the bloody hell are you two sniggering about?"

"Nothing," Ginny and Hermione replied simultaneously and giggled yet again.

Harry stared at them, flummoxed. To be honest, she was more concerned about Hermione's odd behavior than what her words meant; giggling girlishly and saying the word 'cute' was about as un-Hermione-like as one could get.

"Are you alright?" she asked earnestly concerned for her friend.

"And what's cute?" added Neville with a frown. Even Luna, who had been trying to swat away invisible Nargels the entire time, had begun to look interested in their conversation.

"Nothing!"

Harry sighed.

"I don't think I even want to know," she muttered before heading to the large doors that opened into the magnificent Great Hall which was lit, as usual, by thousands of floating candles. Her friends followed, Hermione and Ginny still giggling like love struck schoolgirls much to her chagrin.

Heads turned to follow Harry and her present company as they made their way to the Gryffindor table on the far side of the Hall. She ignored the hushed whispers and clamors that broke out in her wake and gave her Gryffindor friends a brilliant smile when she got to the table. With a vague wave, Luna broke away from them to join her fellow Ravenclaws.

The Great Hall looked almost exactly like it had before the battle. All the tables were restored; the mess had been cleaned up. It was like nothing traumatic here had even happened. But, Harry doubted anyone would ever forget what took place in this room. She could not forget. It was just a little to her left that she and Voldemort had had their final duel once and for all.

Harry gave a shudder and turned back to her friends letting the memory be pushed to the far back of her mind.

"Hey, guys," a sandy-haired boy grinned at them, "it's great to see ya back here!"

"Thanks Seamus," Ron answered before plopping down on Harry's other side as she sat down beside the Irishman.

Seamus immediately turned to his best friend, Dean Thomas, who was seated next to him.

"They came! Pay up, man."

Dean grimaced before reluctantly handing over a considerable amount of silver Sickles to the beaming Irishman. Harry, Neville and the two Weasleys watched the exchange with amusement while Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval.

"You were betting on whether we would come back or not?" Ron asked with a grin as Ginny laughed.

"You _bet_ we were," Seamus said while grinning at his own play on words.

Dean frowned irately at him and rolled his eyes. "Since all three of you are big heroes now and everything, we wondered if you'd come back to your little friends." He winked good-humoredly at them.

With an amused shake of her head, Harry turned away from him to observe the High Table. The sight of familiar faces greeted her: Professors Flitwick, Vector, Slughorn, even Trelawney was present, as well as others whose names she still did not know. So was Professor McGonagall, only she was seated in the very center. The sight startled Harry slightly before she remembered that McGonagall was the headmistress now. She frowned slightly; it was peculiar to see her Transfiguration teacher sitting in the headmistress' chair and it made her chest clench painfully when she reminded herself that she would never again see the majestic figure of Albus Dumbledore sitting in the center of the High Table.

Emotional pain shot through her heart at the thought. Harry had seen Dumbledore being thrown off the Astronomy Tower with her own eyes and she had attended his funeral; but it was the picture of McGonagall in the chair that Dumbledore used to occupy that truly seemed to make his death feel real.

_He's really gone_.

She was shaken from her gloomy thoughts and memories by the sound of the doors being opened. Turning her head, Harry saw the new batch of first years being lead into the Great Hall by the Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout. A quick glance showed her that Professor Flitwick had already set the three-legged stool with the old, patched and dirty-looking Sorting Hat on it before the High Table, and that Hagrid, the first friend she had ever made, was sitting down in his chair; obviously his job of escorting the newcomers to the school over the lake had been completed. With a smile, Harry waved at his giant form and he waved back enthusiastically when he saw her, winking at her at the same time.

In next to no time, the new first years were assembled before the Sorting Hat; the looks on their faces varied from nervous to 'Oh-my-God-I'm-going-to-die'. Silence reigned in the Great Hall for a few seconds as every eye focused on the frayed Hat on the little stool; and then, a mouth opened near the brim of the Hat and it began to sing.

Harry would never remember the exact words of the song for her brain felt as if it had been stunned into paralysis when the Hat had finished, such was her surprise; but she would never forget the message the song had given.

The Hat unabashedly sang of their recent victory over the Dark and about the many lives lost. It sang in detail about the battle that had taken place right inside the walls of Hogwarts and how the fall of Voldemort had been brought about (Harry was extremely glad that the Hat did not mention her name; however, many students turned to look at her during that part of the song). Then it sang of the qualities of the four houses, the brave and courageous lions, the loyal and faithful badgers, the wise and intellectual ravens, and the cunning and ambitious snakes. However, it was the next part of the song that surprised most of the students into silence. It was the part that would forever stick with Harry.

The Hat sang of how each and every student in the Hall were exactly the same despite their differences; that they were all equal to one another in every aspect of the word; how every wizard and witch were human and in no way were superior to another; how unity was the only way to overcome evil; and finally, it sang of the importance of friendship to exist between the Houses, emphasizing that Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin were nothing but names that were indications of their abilities, but not of who they were. '_Stand united, my friends,_' the Hat sang exuberantly, '_and peace shall never end._'

The silence that followed the song was one of the longest in all of Hogwarts' history. The students only began to applaud when the teachers started, and even they looked more than a little taken aback at the topic of the song and the bluntness with which the Hat had sung it. It was a bit much to take in, but it was needed to be said. After all, the non-acceptance of differences was what had started the last war.

"Overkill," Ron muttered as he clapped slowly, still staring at the Sorting Hat.

The rest of his friends murmured their agreement except for Harry who was lost in thought. She was thinking about the part of the song where the Hat had sung about their Houses being only an indication of their abilities, but not of who they were. The words brought back a memory from long ago, back when she had been in second year and had saved Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets; she remembered with vivid clarity the words Albus Dumbledore had said to her in his office that frightful night:

"It's not our _abilities_ that show what we truly are; it is our _choices_."

This also brought about memories of her godfather. Over Christmas break fifth year when he was explaining the Black family tree to her she confessed that thought she was turning bad. Sirius had wrapped her in a hug and said:

"We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."

Harry shook her head slightly. Only now, after having made many hard choices and witnessing others doing the same, could she appreciate the wisdom and truth of those words. People had been led to believe that the brave and courageous Gryffindors were the ultimate good guys while the cunning and ambitious Slytherins were the big bad snakes. And yet, look at Peter Pettigrew, who had been in Gryffindor but had had the cold heart to betray his best friends to Voldemort, all for power and protection. And look at Regulus Black, a Slytherin, who had tried to stop Voldemort at the cost of his own life. In the end, it had been their _choices_ that had shown their true colors. Look at Severus Snape.

Gryffindor and Slytherin, along with other two, were only just names, Harry realized; they were nothing to judge a person with.

_And it took me seven long years to finally see it_, Harry thought rather sorrowfully, recalling the scorn and mistrust with which she had treated Slytherins for a very long time.

"So, should we get all matey-matey with the good ole' snakes?" Seamus suddenly asked with a shit-eating grin on his face as he gazed at the Slytherin table, which noticeably had the fewest number of students present.

Harry turned back to her friends.

"What?" spluttered Ron, shocked. "Are you serious mate?"

Seamus shrugged, still leering at the Slytherins. "Well, the singing Hat just said so, didn't it?"

"I think it's a good idea," Hermione said crisply. "We could do with some inter-house unity around here. All this anger and fights just because we have some absurd idea that _all _Slytherins are bad and them hating us in return because of a millennium old grudge is pointless! We should all try to accept a person for what they are and be friends without judging them first."

"Hermione –!" Ron began to protest but the girl cut him off.

"Honestly, Ronald, face it! Every time a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin comes up, someone gets hurt! Just because that person happened to be a Slytherin or a Gryffindor! And to think that Quidditch games were introduced to Hogwarts for the sole reason of encouraging friendly relations between Houses! Seems kind of pointless when you consider the fact that Quidditch only seems to encourage rivalry between the Houses, don't you think?"

Ron scowled, but her words rang with too much truth for him to argue back.

"She's right," Ginny murmured thoughtfully. "In fact, I think that if the rest of the Houses hadn't shunned Slytherin so much before, maybe we might not have lost so many Slytherins to the Dark Side during the War. A lot of them might 'ave been on our side."

"I guess," muttered Dean, watching the table on the other side of the Hall keenly. Neville nodded in agreement.

Ron was still frowning. Apparently, the idea of being all buddy-buddy with Slytherin snakes was not something easy for him to get used to.

"Harry, what do you think?" he finally asked, looking around at Harry desperately.

The raven-haired girl looked down at the table, tracing the outline of her golden goblet with a finger. It was a long moment before she finally spoke.

"I think that, after the war, we've found out that not all Slytherins are bad, just like not all Gryffindors or Ravenclaws or even Hufflepuffs are good."

Ron's eyes widened. "So you agree with them? We should be chums with the _Slytherins_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the red-head, but made no comment.

There was another moment of silence as Harry continued to finger her goblet thoughtfully. "We should stop fighting with them, at least," she muttered finally. "I guess they could be useful allies if we befriend them . . . even they deserve a second chance."

"Well said Harry!" Grinning, Seamus nudged Harry with his elbow.

Ron still looked slightly skeptical, but Hermione leaned over and breathed in his ear, loud enough for Harry to hear, "Think of it this way, Ron, being friends with Slytherins can be a really good thing right now."

Ron frowned clearly perplexed. "How?"

Hermione looked pointedly at Harry and Harry looked back at her, puzzled. Ron looked between them for a few seconds with a confused look on his face before he understood.

"Oh, I get it! Yeah, it's because Harry is Malfoy's fia - !"

Harry's eyes widened dramatically when she realized what her best friend was about to say and smacked him upside the head to shut him up.

"Not so loud, Ron, damn it!"

"Sorry," he whispered, rubbing the back of his head tenderly.

"And _don't_ call me his fiancée," she added in a rather petulant voice.

"Take it easy, mate."

Harry shook her head irritably at him before scowling at Hermione.

"And what do you mean that being friendly with the Slytherins will be a good thing now?"

Hermione smiled prettily at her. "I meant, what with you being Malfoy's . . . you-know-what" – Harry narrowed her eyes at her best friend warningly – "it would be much better and easier for us if we were on good terms with the Slytherin if . . . you know . . ."

Harry stared at her in disbelief. "You mean . . . if I end up - _married_ to him?"

"Exactly," Hermione grinned, looking relieved that her friend had understood immediately. "That way, there will be no hostility between us all and it wouldn't feel awkward to have Malfoy around and you being Mrs. Malfoy and – "

"_Hermione_," Harry hissed angrily, ignoring Ron who looked positively sick at the idea of his best friend being 'Mrs. Malfoy', "that is _not_ going to happen!"

"You never know, Harry, you can never know."

The green-eyed girl was about to open her mouth to retort when the plates before them filled with food and drink. She blinked in surprise, distracted from the mild argument as she stared at the delicacies in front of her. Beside her, Ron and Hermione were in similar states.

"What – what happened to the Sorting?" Ron stammered.

Seamus peeked around Harry at the red-head. "What are you talking about, mate? It's over!"

Ron blinked. "Over?"

Hermione chuckled amusedly. "I guess we got so caught up in our conversation that we didn't even notice the Sorting taking place."

Seamus leered at them. "That must have been one intense conversation then!"

Harry flushed slightly, thinking about what she, Ron and Hermione had been talking about.

_Intense it was._

Beside her, Seamus laughed.

"I can't believe you missed the entire thing! I mean, yeah even we" – he gestured at Dean, Neville, Ginny and himself – "missed the first half, but to miss the _whole_ Sorting -ha!"

"We had a lot of important things to discuss, Seamus," Hermione cut in smoothly as she helped herself to mashed potatoes.

The Irishman raised his eyebrows at her.

"Hermione, the War is over! _Normal life_ has started! How can there still be 'important things to discuss' anymore?"

As Hermione answered her year-mate, Harry tuned out the conversation and frowned down at her plate of food. Normal life? Harry Potter's life was anything but normal.

_And it doesn't look like that's about to change anytime soon_

She glanced at her hand where the ring was hidden underneath the black glove. In fact, her life was so not-normal that the not-normal things that incessantly happened to her could actually be considered 'normal'. She laughed dryly at the irony of that thought, ignoring the questioning looks her friends shot at her.

_Oh, yes, what a normal life I have!_

* * *

**A/N: *bangs head into computer* I fell to the gushing over Draco Malfoy's eyes clichés! But to be fair, I _did_ warn you about clichés! HAHA xD**

**The next chapter is sort of like Part 2 of this one because it takes place in the same night. I'll post the next one_ soon_. Not in the next five minutes, but still _SOON_, okay? Definitely shorter than this update which I very much apologize for! (:**

**Also, looking back on the previous chapters, I wanted to make sure it was clear . . . so be warned: this fic will be a _slow_ romance, so please be patient. I will throw in Draco/Harry interactions here and there though because they are fun to write! **

**_As always comments! What would YOU like to see? Thanks!_**

**ALSO GO VOTE ON MY POLL RIGHT NOW PLEASE. xD**

**A/N: *bangs head into computer* I fell to the gushing over Draco Malfoy's eyes clichés! But to be fair, I ****_did_**** warn you about clichés! HAHA xD**

**The next chapter is sort of like Part 2 of this one because it takes place in the same night. I'll post the next one****_ soon_****. Not in the next five minutes, but still ****_SOON_****, okay? Definitely shorter than this update which I very much apologize for! (:**

**Also, looking back on the previous chapters, I wanted to make sure it was clear . . . so be warned: this fic will be a ****_slow_**** romance, so please be patient. I will throw in Draco/Harry interactions here and there though because they are fun to write! **

**_As always comments! What would YOU like to see? Thanks!_**

**ALSO GO VOTE ON MY POLL RIGHT NOW PLEASE. xD**


	6. Authors Note

Hello Amazing Readers!

I am so sorry that this is an authors note because I hate it when writers do this. . .but aahhhh well! Forgive me! (;

This important PSA is a question for all of you.

My instagram account is: _** thesebookworms**_ - you should follow me! xD

Also, I was wondering what your opinion would be if** I started a booktube channel**?

Would you watch me? Let me know please!

Thanks! The next chapter should be up by Friday!(: *peace out*


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